


How to break a Prince

by Anchanee



Series: Fear, Revenge and New Beginnings [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Bottom Arthur, Dark Merlin, Edging, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemas, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Forced Exhibitionism, Forced Orgasm, Forced Submission, Hand Jobs, M/M, Magic Revealed, Multi, Non-Consensual Bondage, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Physical Abuse, Physical Manipulation, Psychological Torture, Public Sex, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reincarnation, Ritual Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Stockholm Syndrome, Top Merlin, Torture, Touch-Starved, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9532055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchanee/pseuds/Anchanee
Summary: Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, Morgause, Uther, the knights, their families, all are reborn again and again and again. The Pendragon bloodline is responsible for the kingdom and the magic that gives it life. But the last time they were reborn, they chose to shun their duties. They only cared about wealth. Merlin couldn't reach them, couldn't help them fulfill their destiny. As a consequence, he had to watch the land and its magic fall to pieces around him. He lived the rest of the 20th century regretting, not taking a more forceful approach.But this is a new century, a new era. A new Millennium has begun and the moment Merlin came into his memories, he vowed that he would not let the Pendragons ignore their fate again. This time, they would serve their country, with or without their consent.





	1. Explanation

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Descent into Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/461441) by [static_abyss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss). 
  * Inspired by [Look Into the Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188000) by [Tassos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassos/pseuds/Tassos). 



> This is my attempt to write something dark and vicious. I feel enticed by Dark!Merlin and since I could not make him evil, I tried to come up with an incentive that would make him pull all stops to get what he wants. Regrettably, this didn't go as far as I have hoped. Now I am looking for a writing partner. Please enjoy the chapters I have already finished and maybe this story speaks to you.  
> If so, please contact me on Tumblr [Anchanee](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/anchanee), in this Archive or send me a mail to anchanee@a1.net.  
> Have a great day :).

There are free souls, who travel the world, living life after life in different countries on different continents, all to enhance their experience before they finally enter the afterlife. Then there are souls who are bound. Bound to a specific place. No matter how often they are reborn, they always return to their soil because it is their home. Finally, there are powerful beings, souls so strong that they are needed to keep their land alive. Most of these souls have magic, but sometimes, 'normal' human beings are needed as well, though one would be hard-pressed to call them 'ordinary'.

The Pendragon bloodline is bound to the United Kingdom. The land prospers because of their devotion and the witches and warlocks of Camelot, living, breathing proof that magic exists, serve them to keep it that way. The problem is, only magical beings remember their former lives. Humans have ideas … intuition. Souls recognize each other, feel comfort, love, hatred or fear depending on their former relationships. One can fight the images of a past life, overcome them with effort, but never erase them completely.

Merlin has lived more lives than he cares to remember. The high priestess of the old religion and her witch sister were always by his side, one way or the other. He was searching for the Pendragons, ready to serve them to keep their country prosperous. But during their last incarnation, something went wrong. The Pendragons would not take their rightful place, would rather nourish themselves than their country. So the magic is growing weaker, starting to fade. But that won't do.

The king must submit to his country, give all of himself freely; his mind, his body, and his soul. The Pendragons have ignored their destiny once, the consequences were devastating. But now Merlin has another chance. With Morgana and Morgause at his side, he is determined to give the land what it needs to survive, to prosper once more. The problem is: the Pendragons are still arse who only care for themselves.

But Merlin has more power than mere humans. Especially with the magic folk on his side. Merlin will take Uther … or Arthur, he's not picky. He will make them submit so they can fulfill their destiny. With or without their consent.


	2. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the beginning of this story, Merlin has to come into his memories. This time, he has family around to help him through it, namely his mother, an old dragon, a high priestess and a witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've completed seven chapters of this story and the end. Still, there is so much space in the middle I don't know how to fill. I need torments and tribulations for our beloved prince. Whoever is ready to give me hints or support, I would be tremendously grateful. Please contact me via tumblr or in this Archive.  
> Love to all of you.

"Are you sure he's alright?" Hunith whispered, twisting her colorful scarf between her fingers. "He looks so pale."

"Your son always looks pale." Morgause reminded her gently, guiding her to a fallen tree to sit upon, instead of pacing around the circle that protected the seemingly lifeless body of her child.

"My sister and I have performed this ritual often enough to have perfected it by now. Nothing bad will happen, Morgana and I won't allow it." Pulling a bottle of water from her backpack, she offered it to the restless woman. "Drink, please. Merlin wouldn't want you to extort yourself on his behalf. He only brought you along, because you promised not to worry."

Ignoring the two women, the white-haired male in attendance crossed the clearing. He scrutinized the sacred altar, with the naked body. To his eyes, the runes that painted both the warlock's body and the stone glowed ever so faintly, indicating that the ritual was still in process. He stepped up to the dark−haired, young woman, who stood unmoving at the edge of the protective circle. She was constantly moving the pendant along the chain around her neck. "You don't agree with your sister, young witch?"

Absent−minded Morgana shook her head. "Of course, I do. Morgause's preparations were flawless and our spell perfect. Neither of us would tolerate anything less. Especially when it comes to him."

"Then why do you look so concerned?"

Aware that it was useless to hide the truth for a dragon, even if he was in human form, Morgana admitted reluctantly, "I'm wondering what will be on the forefront of his mind when he awakes: our time in Camelot or what we are now."

"Oh, Morgana, sweet–heart," Hunith rose, hugging the girl she had come to love like a daughter. "Merlin is your brother. Maybe not by blood but his heart will know it."

Barely accepting the comfort, the young woman hugged back briefly before shaking her head. "You don't remember last time, Nana. In the end, he hated me."

In an attempt to comfort her sister, Morgause reminded her. "Last time we weren't there. His memories all crashed down on him without an anchor, drowning him like a tidal wave. This time we are here to ease the load. Also, we have a month until the Equinox. Merlin has time to prepare himself, and we will stand by his side to support him. No matter how dire the situation, this time we will make it."

"But he doesn't have Arthur …," Morgana whispered barely audible.

For that, nobody could offer any solace.

ϽОϹ

"It's beginning," the dragon warned, moments before the runes on Merlin's skin went up in flames.

They claimed their positions on, the cardinal points, at the edge of the circle and waited for the Warlock to wake. When he finally shot up, magic blasting free from the confines of his mind, it ripped through the ancient woods like a storm. His roar was all encompassing, filling their mind, their hearts, even touched their souls. Every living being, be it human, magical creature or beast, felt Merlin Emrys unlock the full extent of his powers.

Once silence filled the clearing again, the warlock whipped around, taking in his surroundings. Toppling down from the waist−high stone−table, he frantically reached for his mother, pulling her behind himself. His voice was a bare hiss when he addressed those around him. "What are you doing here, witches? Haven't you caused enough harm? If you even _think_ about hurting my mother, I will **_destroy_** you!"

"Merlin!" Chiding, Hunith wrapped her long scarf around her naked son's hips, gently caressing his back.

Preserving his modesty, by securing the fabric around his body, Merlin reached back and patted his mother's hand. "I won't allow them to harm you. You're absolutely safe, mother, don't worry."

"I'm not worried," she assured him, slowly stepping around to look at his face. Cupping his cheeks, Hunith promised, "Neither Morgana nor Morgause and certainly not Kilgharrah would ever hurt me. You know that, Merlin. Please, try to remember."

The young man covered his mother's hands with his own and actually looked at her. She wore the light vest he had gotten her for Christmas because it was so luscious she would never buy it for herself. The scarf his sis… Morgana had brought her from her last trip to Paris. Because − as his sister had explained − 'Every woman needs at least one piece of haute couture in her wardrobe!'.

He gazed at Morgana and her older sister, who looked at him with such concern, hovering just at the other side of the altar. He studied the dragon in human form, who had grown so much older since Merlin had last seen him. The warlock remembered the time he had freed the beast from his mortal prison, last century, and the time before that and the time before. Memories of many lifetimes assaulted him, and he had to clench his teeth against the pain, slowly sinking to his knees, clutching his head.

Instantly his mother hugged him protectively, "Morgana, Morgause, something isn't right. Help him!"

"It's okay," Merlin forced out. "It's just … a lot."

After a little shove from Morgause, Morgana rounded the altar, sinking to her knees beside the family, who had taken her in after both parents had abandoned her. Gingerly she reached out for the unruly mop of dark hair. The moment she made contact, Merlin reached out, pressing her hand to his head. Curling into her, he whispered, "It hurts, Morgana, … please, …"

Sagging with relief, tentatively smiling at Hunith, who had scooted back to give them room, Morgana hugged her adoptive brother and started petting his head, whispering, "I know, Merlin. I'll try to make it better." She closed her eyes and took a fortifying breath. When she looked up again, her eyes were glowing golden. "By the goddess," she breathed, tears falling. "It's too much. So much pain."

"Morgana!" Merlin cried out, when she faltered, digging his fingers into her arms, keeping her close.

Morgause was beside them in a heartbeat, reaching for her sister's hand, touching Merlin's arm to complete the circle.

For minutes the three clung to each other, shivering while helping Merlin to work through his memories. At some point, Hunith fled into the arms of her dragon. From what the girls had told her, he had been her protector and companion for many lifetimes, more than Balinor, Merlin's father had ever been. Though he was never born anew, her soul always recognized his, feeling safe with someone others might call a monster. She could never remember her last incarnations, not like witches or warlocks. There were just faint whispers, at the back of her head, telling her whom to trust and who to avoid. Kilgharrah had been her steady companion for over four decades now. Yet still, there were things not even he could help with.

"I wish I could share his pain, ease him like they do." She mumbled, leaning back against him while watching her son tremble from distress.

Kissing her head, the dragon reminded her, "You were privileged to ease so much of his pain and heartache before the witches got their chance. Don't begrudge them the opportunity to help. They have failed him last time. They have a lot to make up for."

Watching the trio beside the altar, Hunith asked, "What happened the last time?" She had made a point not to inquire about past lives. It never helped with the present one, or so she had been told, some fifteen years ago, when Morgause had revealed the true identity of her son and the girl that hid behind her skirt. Yet this time, Hunith felt like she couldn't help herself.

She regretted her decision when her protector replied, "World War II. And that wasn't even the worst of it."

ϽОϹ

The sun started to dip beneath the horizon when Merlin finally dressed. The carefree, young author, he had been just this morning, had disappeared. Though his physical form hadn't changed, there was now a tightness to Merlin's lips and hardness to his eyes that hadn't been there before. There was a lot to do, and they had little time. Still, the dragon held him back when Merlin tried to leave the clearing.

"Aren't you forgetting something, young warlock?"

Slowly Merlin turned around, scrutinizing the old figure before gazing at his mother, raising his eyes in question.

It had hurt Hunith to see her usually so light-hearted son change before her very eyes, yet this gesture was so very 'Merlin' that she couldn't help but smile. "He went above and beyond the call of duty. He deserves this."

Merlin's eyes burned like molten gold when he looked at his mother's protector and commanded, " _Lísan_."

It felt like a quiet explosion when the dragon shed his mortal skin and spread his wings for the first time in half a century. His triumphant roar echoed through the forest. He thanked the warlock with a barely there tint of his head. Spared more time for Hunith, nudging her so very gently with his snout until she laughed and leaped into the sky.

"Go!" She encouraged. "Enjoy the night; it's short enough these days."

With a few, powerful beats of his wings, the dragon disappeared into the night−sky.

ϽОϹ

In the wee hours of the morning, Morgause found Merlin sitting on the roof of his room. Offering coffee, she sank down beside him. After a while, the warlock turned towards the high priestess. "You can feel it too, can't you? The land is struggling, barely holding on. It's longing for their king to submit himself to the magic. My powers, though nearly infinite again, are not enough."

"Yes," Morgause admitted, looking up when her sister emerged through her adoptive brother's window and pulled herself up to the roof as well. "Albion has come, due to Arthur's and your sacrifice. But the magic is waning. Not long and it will die and take all of us with it."

"And all because of the Pendragon's greed and ignorance!" Merlin spat out, clutching his steaming cup.

"I'm a Pendragon too," Morgana reminded him, settling down cross−legged on the other side of Merlin.

Brushing his hand over her cooling coffee, heating it up again, Merlin put his head on her shoulder. "You're a witch. The land takes its strength from you already. You're submitting to its preservation simply by accepting and using your gifts."

"So, we need Uther," Morgause concluded.

"Or Arthur," Merlin sneered bitterly. "And this time I won't allow either of them to hide from their destiny."

"What do you want to do?"

Despite the early hour, Merlin's eyes grew dark when he decided, "I will take their submission and save our world. With or without their consent.

ϽОϹ

Kilgharrah's human form looked considerably younger after his time as a dragon. Since he still showed the same devotion to her as before, Merlin's mother was delighted to have him back. Merlin had left right after breakfast, clad in a dark suit with a black turtle−neck underneath. He had looked hardened, determined and she had not liked it. But Kilgharrah tried to comfort her, "The fate of our world rests on his shoulders. The life of millions hangs in the balance. No matter how he proceeds, you need to have his back, because he can't battle for the fate of magic and against you."

"He looks so angry and bitter. Like he hates mankind."

"At this point," the dragon admitted, "he very well might. With very few exceptions. Still, he will do everything in his considerable powers to save them. Let that be enough."

ϽОϹ

Merlin checked his reflection in the highly polished entrance hall of Pendragon Papers. Every wall and column reflected gold with subtle burgundy appliances. Such over–abundance should look tacky, but clearly, the interior designer had done a marvelous job. "I still can't understand how you could get me an interview with Uther Pendragon that fast. We decided on this course of action only after my memories returning to me. That was merely eight days ago." Bluetooth technology really was a blessing.

Morgana sat in her office at the other side of town, offering some last-minute insight for her brother who was about to meet the founder of the publishing house. She could be a high−class lawyer, having finished her studies summa−cume−laude, but her brother was, in fact, her only paying client. Well, at least the only one who paid her with money. Still, since she made good investments and was considered the 'go to' address for all fey who found themselves in a tight spot, she rarely was short on good luck. That and good advice that paid off in the future. Since her brother was now in the known, she felt free to admit, "I had made this appointment three weeks ago. I was hoping to find a better editor for you. Chance has it that P.P. is in a bit of a tight spot right now. So, Uther hopes to score you as an author for the next 'Fifty Shades' trilogy.

"My books hardly have enough sex, for them to fall into that category. And they are far less tacky, thank you very much!"

“And thank the goddess for that, those books are embarrassing! Still, you write best–sellers, even with a mediocre publisher. You could gain even more recognition with Pendragon Papers, and they are in dire need of money.”

Sobering from their banter, Merlin asked warningly, “Morgana … please tell me that you had nothing to do with this company’s streak of misfortune.”

Calmly his sister replied, “Ever mind the rule of three, what ye send out comes back to thee.” When she heard his relieved exhale, she added somewhat impish. “But I can make no promise for all of my clients. Last year I represented a Cluricaun against Pendragon Papers.”

Snorting he interrupted. “What was he writing, a wine review?”

“I’ll have you know,” Morgana snapped, “That he was a connoisseur of all things concerning grapes, be it wine, spirit or sweets. But back to the point, P.P. had promised him a contract, only to take their offer back last minute. I might have implied, that I didn’t want any money, after gaining a substantial settlement on his behalf, merely for him to get even. His magical skill–set extended way past the souring of wine. The publishing house has been in a bit of a tight spot and descending ever since.”

“Well, that shouldn’t get you in too much trouble, since you never took it upon yourself to punish them, tough you have every right to hate your father for abandoning you.”

“You know me better than that,” she deadpanned.

Merlin, however, only straightened his jacket for the last time and approached the elevators. Once the doors had closed behind him, he admitted, “See, that’s the problem. I have so many versions of you in my head, that I have troubles separating the old you from the person you are now and all the people you were in–between. And honestly, I am not even sure that the Dark Witch Morgana, wouldn’t be more helpful in the current situation than the lawyer with a heart of gold.”

“That is exactly the point, Merlin. There is no difference between the ‘Dark Witch’ and the lawyer. I’m on your side, irrevocably, that should be the only thing that matters. For you, I will be as dark or as golden as you need me.” His sister assured. “Explain the situation to Uther, he knows about magic, Arthur is living proof of that. If he is not willing to submit, give him the contract.”

“That’s basically a slave–contract.”

“Yes,” Morgana confirmed coldly. “Mind, Body and Soul.”

ϽОϹ

"This is ridiculous," Uther growled. "If you think I will submit to you, just to fulfill this little fantasy of yours, you're insane!" He was just about to rise from his chair, when Merlin's eyes burned up, commanding, "Sit." The same moment the lock to Uther's office engaged, effectively sealing them in.

Swallowing down the rising trepidation, the founder of Pendragon Papers asked, "My God, what are you?"

Merlin slowly rose from his chair and leaned over the table threateningly. "You know who I am. More importantly, you know what I am. Go on, Uther Pendragon, proof to me that you are not as ignorant as you seem."

"A witch!"

"Close."

"A warlock then," the man corrected himself, barely managing to remain in his chair and not cover before the force that stared him down with golden eyes.

"Your warlock, to be precise." The young man relaxed back into his chair, allowing Uther some reprieve. "You are the eldest living member of the Pendragon bloodline. The wellbeing of our kingdom is your responsibility. And to achieve that you need to submit to me!"

Proving that he was aware of his family's history of providing the king for medieval England, Uther protested. "That's absurd. The Windsors have ruled this country for generations."

"The Windsors may direct the political fate of our nation, but the Pendragons are the blood and the soul of this land. A century ago, I could not get a hold of you. I won't let you shun your responsibilities a second time." Throwing the contract across the table, Merlin rose. "I want you or your son. I don't care either way. You sign this, and I will write your books and save your country. If you don't, things will become far more unpleasant. You have until Friday night at sundown. Bring the contract to my doorstep, and the terms will be fulfilled."

An arctic blast made Uther's blood run cold when Merlin excited his office. Taking a deep breath, he opened the fold and started reading. An hour later, he activated his intercom. "Morgause, please call my son to join me after lunch. We have a lot to talk about."

ϽОϹ

"Arthur Pendragon is a brat!" Hunith protested after Merlin had told her over dinner that the young man would most likely live with them for the foreseeable future. In his mind, hell would rather freeze over, than Uther submitting himself. "He's an egoistic philanderer, who poses for a new scandal every other weekend! He is shameless, and I doubt that he will display manners suitable for my table."

"First of all, mum," Merlin smiled. "I will teach him manners, and second, you really don't have to worry about him posing for a scandal. I will keep him fully occupied while he's with us."

"Fine," his mother relented. "I really can't understand why his father tolerates such juvenile behaviour."

"Because," her son recalled, "Arthur is excellent at enticing promising authors into signing contracts with his family's company. He brings money to the table. In our world money means power and in the eyes of Uther Pendragon, _that_ is all that matters."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Arthur learns his place and gets to know a fraction of Merlin's powers.


	3. Strip! [Friday (T−16)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic belongs in fairytales and children's stories. Or so Arthur thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still looking for a writing partner who's willing to help me with this story. I hope to entice at least one of you. If not, have fun with the story as far as I've written it :).  
> Lots of love to all of you and enjoy your weekend.

Arthur stood in front of the lovely, two−storey home, clutching his gym−bag and the folder with the signed treaty so hard his knuckles turned white. His father had painted a vivid picture of what would happen to Pendragon Papers if Arthur didn't manage to fulfill the terms of the contract. Willing to do anything to save their company, he had agreed to live with this author, who had chosen the terribly original name of Merlin Emrys, for the foreseeable future and cater to his every whim. All the while hoping and praying that his next book would deliver what the previous had promised.

When he knocked, a middle−aged woman opened the door and took her time scrutinizing him. Arthur felt his throat run dry under her piercing gaze and could merely croak, "Thank you," when she stepped aside and beckoned him in.

"Take off your shoes," was the first order he was given by a lanky, young man, who was leaning against the doorframe of the entrance hall. Though the command had been delivered in a bored tone, Arthur knew he had to obey. It would not do to antagonize his future client right from the start. It certainly helped that the man was bare−foot himself. After the non−introduction, he followed Mr. Emrys to his room, a generous space over the garage with its own facilities. It looked a little sterile, containing no personal artifacts, but the furniture was tasteful and of high quality.

After the door had clicked shut, Arthur handed over the papers. "It's a little late, but if you show me where I can stay, I will put down my bag, and we can start right away. Best we begin by you telling me how I can support your writing process."

Gesturing towards a pallet in an alcove by the broadest window, Merlin revealed, "You'll be sleeping there until I decide you're worth sharing my bed."

"You are joking," Arthur hissed incredulously, but the young man didn't pay him any mind, instead leaved through the contract to convince himself that everything was in order. "Get out your suit and put in on the hook beside the alcove and then strip."

Growing cold all over, Arthur gazed at Merlin and spat out, "What?"

Rising from the desk−chair he had relaxed into, Merlin prowled towards his future pet, forcing him to take half a step back before catching himself. "I said, strip!"

Bristling visibly, the blond stepped towards the door, only to find it locked without a key the moment he reached for it. He felt the owner of the room stepping up to him, and instead of cold, scorching heat washed over him. The cruel words were delivered like a soft caress when the man whispered into his ear, "It appears that your father has not prepared you sufficiently for this assignment. I am Merlin, the living, breathing manifestation of the magic of this land. You and your father have signed your life over to me in exchange for a book−contract. So now everything you have, everything you do and everything you are is mine, until I say otherwise."

Pressing forward, until they were nearly touching, the warlock continued, "So, if I want you naked, you will strip. If I'd like you dressed, I will provide clothes. If you don't comply on your own, I will force compliance. Do you understand?"

"That's insane … you can't do that."

"Really?" Merlin chuckled, reaching for Arthur's throat, closing his fingers around it. "I can make you hurt so much; the pain will force you to your knees."

And indeed, before the blond could pry the constricting fingers loose, agony exploded through his body toppling him in a heartbeat, demanding his entire strength just to breath.

Merlin tilted up his victim's head, so Arthur was forced to meet his golden eyes. "I can force your heart into two−hundred beats per minute."

And though the pain vanished, his racing heartbeat made Arthur scratch the door in front of him frightful, fighting past the dizziness that hit him instantly.

"Or I can make it all go away," the warlock whispered, caressing his victim's chin in a mock−tender motion. "Calm your heart, calm your body, until you are on the verge of sleep."

This was probably the most terrifying spell of all. Because though Arthur's body relaxed, muscles that had been tense for months finally unclenched, the fear still clouded Arthur's mind. Everything was too real, too raw. The fairy−tale of magic had taken control of his body and was now slipping free the buttons of his shirt one by one.

"You are mine now, Arthur Pendragon." The raven−haired magician proclaimed. "So, either you decide to take your contract and return it to your father, explain to him that you were too prideful to save your company, or you will start doing as you're told."

Finally letting go of Arthur's throat, Merlin rose from where he had been crouched beside his pet and returned to his desk, looking down at the kneeling man. "What will it be?"

Fighting to get his feet under him again, Arthur pulled out his suit and hung it on the hook beside the pallet. Then he slipped his dress−shirt off his shoulders, reaching for the belt with trembling fingers. He needed to do this to save their company, his father's life−work. If he resisted, Pendragon Papers would be ruined.

ϽОϹ

It was a delight to see Arthur struggle. The usually so proud Pendragon stood before him, shivering and naked, and Merlin enjoyed every moment of it. The memories of their last encounter rose in his mind. Kilgharrah had fought to keep his mother safe from a war; Merlin had had no hope to prevent. As the last warlock on the side of light, he had needed every ounce of his substantial powers to hold the magical world together, to prevent an all–encompassing conflict, that would have destroyed their country.

Uther and Arthur had supported the warfare from the safety of their weapons mills, hiding in a remote part of England, under the pretense of easier available resources. They had been amoral cowards, making money by providing the means of killing their enemies more effectively, and their land had suffered for it.

Now Arthur was the one to suffer. He would give everything, he was to Merlin and therefore to magic. Only then would they be able to sustain the forces that had kept this land healthy and prosperous for millennia.

Emptying his metal dustbin, the young warlock slid it over, instructing, "Set your shoes and belt aside and put the rest of your clothes in there." After Arthur had done as he was told, Merlin threw him a box of matches. "Burn them."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like them!" Baring his teeth, he prompted the man to take the match−box with shaky fingers. It was a lie, of course. Merlin couldn't care less about these clothes. In fact, now that he thought of it, they had suited Arthur rather nicely. But that was beside the point. To break a strong personality, you had to take away any sense of self−determination. Merlin would degrade his former prince to a pet, a mere plaything of his fancy, who counted for less than people he met on the street in passing.

The match he had ignited, had burned out in Arthur's fingers. Not that Merlin had expected anything else. This was a harsh task, but the warlock had two days and one night for basic training before the blond would return to work on Monday. Of course, he wouldn't be allowed to go alone. Still, the ground−rules had to have sunken in by then. Merlin had mere three weeks for the fine−tuning after that. When the Equinox was upon them, Arthur had to give himself to him without holding anything back.

"I can't," the young man whispered dejectedly. "I don't want to, please!" But before he could continue, the warlock stated dispassionately. "This will go a lot easier if you just accept that whatever order I give you, will be carried out. What you want or don't want is of no consequence. If you resist, you will suffer. In this case, …" eyes burning golden, Merlin decided, "You will not move from this spot until you have finished your task!

"I don't like to repeat myself. Keep that in mind for the future." And just like that Merlin turned around, retreating to a comfortable armchair, leafing through his grimoire to re−familiarize himself with his magic.

An hour later, Hunith called him to dinner. Not even looking at the struggling young man, he went to join his mother. When Merlin returned, Arthur still hadn't moved but appeared distressed. "I have … I need to use your facilities."

But the warlock merely raised his eyebrows before taking a shower. When he turned out the lights for the night, he was bothered by a scandalized, "You can't leave me standing here all night!"

Sighing, he explained, "I can do whatever I want. But that's entirely beside the point. I gave you an order, and as soon as you fulfill it, you can relief yourself and then go to your pallet. How much time this takes is entirely up to you. Now, be quiet!"

ϽОϹ

His magic was protecting him − as it had done all his life − Merlin had realized only a few days ago. So, even if his new 'guest' would be finally able to move, he would not be able to trouble him in any way. Still, a part of him was curious to find out, how long Arthur's resistance could last.

Around one, his instincts woke him, and he got the chance to watch his naked pet scrambling for the bathroom and flames slowly licking at the edges of his dust−bin. A whispered spell had the fire burn brighter and hotter, incinerating the blond's clothes in seconds. Stumbling out of the bathroom, his new pet seemed to consider lashing out towards his master, yet after a moment he sagged defeated and curled up on his improvised bed, sobbing quietly. Merlin decided not to comment.

ϽОϹ

The next morning, Merlin allowed Arthur to relieve himself before prompting him to follow him downstairs. It was apparent how much his pet hated his current state of undress, but his last punishment was still prominent in his mind, so he didn't contradict the order. He resisted, however when Merlin claimed his place at the table and pointed at the floor beside his chair and ordered, "Kneel."

Shaking his head like a stubborn mule, the Arthur pulled back until Merlin demanded, "Stop!"

Both Kilgharrah and Hunith got the chance to watch the young man, who stood behind Merlin, trembling with impotent rage. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the dragon inquired about their plans for the Equinox, and soon the trio was wrapped up in a discussion about the magic folk and how to contact them.

At one point, Hunith chuckled, "I still can't believe that we have pixies in our garden. Though it explains a lot."

"Well," her son defended his 'pixie-relocation-program.' "Violet was just the first of many, whose homes was destroyed by ruthless construction engineers. And you have to admit; your flowers were never more beautiful."

"Agreed, what are your plans for today?"

"I want to edit a few chapters. I think I can add more details now." Merlin shared.

The dragon wanted to know, "Since this book might be the best you've written yet, do you really plan on having it published by Pendragon Papers, or will you give this one to your old editor?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Merlin shrugged, sipping the last of his tea, "We will see …"

ϽОϹ

As soon as Merlin closed the door to his room after breakfast, the small Elmwood Tree in the corner reached for Arthur. The warlock had rescued the seedling of a once majestic tree, that had been destroyed by the bombs of the last war. That day, Merlin hadn't been able to suffer one more loss, especially not one of such magnitude, since the mother tree had protected the surrounding land for centuries. His magic had strengthened and nurtured the seed, even made it attractive enough for a dryad to claim it as her home. Now its offspring was entwined with Merlin's magic. It was still small, barely a foot taller than Merlin, since it had lived indoor for several decades, but soon he would bring it back to its original place; creating a connection between the land and the triple goddess once again.

Now the plant stretched towards Arthur, and grew around the human, stretching him, so he stood spread−eagled. Casually, Merlin informed him, "Since you prefer not to kneel, you will stand. Tell me when you get tired of it."

It was obvious that Arthur was ready to shout abuse, so Merlin cut him right off. "You will, of course address, not only me but my mother and Kilgharrah, in a polite and calm tone. We wouldn't want you to disturb the neighbors."

Fighting against the unexpected strong branches, the young man started to scream, "You can't …"

" _Áteme!_ "

The command cut him right off, and no matter how much Arthur tried to continue his rant, he remained silent. The warlock had stolen his voice.

Content that his pet was taken care off, Merlin booted his computer and prepared for a productive day. At lunchtime, his mother brought a sandwich and two bottles of water. After satisfying himself, Merlin approached the defiant blond, lifting a bottle to his lips. Despite the hatred in his eyes, Arthur drank in greedy pulls, before sagging slightly against the tree. Aware that his pet was still under compulsion not to speak, Merlin informed him, "A little advice for the future, I expect you to thank me if I offer something. We wouldn't want you to become rude. Nod if you understand."

Despite his burning anger, Arthur nodded after a moment, so Merlin returned to his book.

ϽОϹ

Merlin was lost in his memories of Camelot when a quiet whisper indicated that his weak spell had worn off.

"Please, I need to sit down."

Turning around slowly, the warlock took in the exhausted body. The Elmwood Tree had offered little support, keeping Arthur suspended, weighted down by his own mass, or have its branches cut into the man's arms painfully. Since there was no visible damage, Arthur seemed to be doing well so far. Approaching the blond, he looked him up and down, "Is that so. You 'need' to sit down."

Merlin reached for a stool he used on occasion. It was high enough to keep his pet on his feet but offered a little support at the same time. "Though I think that you're not the best judge of what you need, I will concede this time." He pushed the stool between Arthur's legs, reforming the seating area as he did it.

The leather surface molded into a slim, concave form, perfect to fit itself against a human body with two slight nudges in the middle. One would tease Arthur's backdoor, while the other touched his prostate from the outside. The stool would offer relief in the current situation but only for a few minutes. Then it would inevitably tease parts of the blond's body, exciting him unexpectedly. Maybe Merlin would expand the knob at the back. Make it long enough to barely enter Arthur's anus, if the young man shifted his body just right. It would tease him constantly, as long as Merlin had him standing there, and the warlock didn't plan on letting him down anytime soon.

ϽОϹ

When Hunith called for dinner, Merlin did not even look at Arthur. The young man was writhing against the stool, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. He was rock hard and leaking. The Dryad of Merlin's Elmwood Tree accepted his fluids eagerly, brushing leaves over the erected cock, collecting his watery seed. The small leaves would never offer enough stimulation to make Arthur come, but they kept him on edge, had him panting and unsure if he wanted to lean into or away from the caress. The young man's desperate motions made the warlock smile coldly because he knew that there was no getting away from the stimulation. Either Arthur would present his body more eagerly to the tree, or shove himself against the small knob that was teasing his backside. Briefly, Merlin called upon his magic, making the tantalizing appendix just a little bit longer, enjoying the hitch in his pet's breath when it finally entered him.

When the warlock returned half an hour later, Arthur was desperately rocking into the thin branches that surrounded his cock. Pleased, Merlin approached his pet with a bowl of stew. His eyes tore into the young man's, drinking in his frantic desire before reaching for his tree. Gently he tutted, "His pleasure belongs to me. You might play with him, my dear, but don't push him over the edge." A thin branch reached out for him, and lovingly Merlin caressed the wood and the leaves before pulling back.

Holding up the meal, he asked, "Do you want to have some dinner?"

As expected, the blond shook his head, glaring daggers at him. Shrugging off the rejection of a perfectly fine meal, Merlin reached for the sports−drink he had brought as well. Without asking, he put the muzzle against his pet's lips and made him drink the entire bottle. It would not do for Arthur to dehydrate. Merlin would not let up these torments anytime soon so he would need his strength.

The young man flinched when Merlin pulled out a small package. He retreated, rising to his tiptoes to avoid penetrating himself in front of the warlock when Merlin reached for his groin. Chuckling, the raven−haired assured him, "You have not yet earned the honor of my touch. Don't be frantic." While spreading lube over the leather.

"I don't …" Arthur barked, but bit his tongue when his tired legs gave out and he slid over the stool. Merlin reveled in his gratifying short breath, when the leather penetrated his body, expanding the knob once again. Not enough to reach Arthur's sweet spot, mind you, just enough to increase his torment and desires. He looked forward hearing the prideful man begging for relief.

Snuggling into his favorite chair, Merlin divided his attention between his grimoire and Arthur until a black, tabby cat jumped through the window. She pranced around Arthur, before claiming the armrest of Merlin's chair. Gauging her mood, the warlock gingerly reached out. Today she graced him with permission of petting her.

When she looked at the blond, tilting her head, Merlin confirmed, "Yes, I do have a new pet." At her insistent purr, he chuckled and brushed over her body, head to tail. "No, I don't like him better. You're still my favorite." At the cat's angry hiss, he pulled back his fingers, not wanting to get scratched. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I'll go to bed now. Do you want to join me?"

Scrutinizing him with vibrant, green eyes, apparently pondering if he was worth her presence, the cat sharpened her claws on his chair before abandoning the armrest. Sauntering over to the bed, she curled up on his pillow. When Merlin joined her a little while later, Arthur asked hoarsely, "Aren't you going to let me down?"

"No," was the curt reply that tore an involuntary wine from the young man's throat. "Not until I am sure that you have learned your lesson." And with that, the light was extinguished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being teased all the time is agony, but in the next chapter, Arthur will learn that it can be so much worse.


	4. Cum [Sunday (T-15)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur asks for this but still isn't happy when he's granted his request. Merlin plays a devious game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I can interest you in becoming a writing partner for a story so devious. If not, enjoy nevertheless.  
> Love to all of you and an enjoyable weekend.

When Hunith entered the kitchen around two a.m., she found a black cat rummaging through the lower cupboards. "Are you hungry?"

The pitiful meow was answer enough, so the woman opened the fridge. "I don't have cat−food any longer, so it's either cooked ham or leftover stew."

"The stew please," made Hunith turn around, but completing the circle in a heartbeat when taking in the young woman who now stood behind her. Shrugging off her dressing gown, she chided, "You know how I feel about you being naked in my kitchen!"

Cloth whispered over skin, and after a heartbeat, Morgana confirmed, "I'm decent. Can I eat now? I couldn't make time for lunch or dinner today. I'm starving!"

With a fond sigh, Hunith offered the meal, claiming a chair to sit with her adopted daughter. "And, what do you think?"

After having polished off half the meal, Morgana pondered, "He's headstrong, determined and absolutely ruthless."

"So, you don't think Arthur has any chance to resist."

Shaking her head, the witch divulged, "Merlin is more anchored in his memories than he was ever before. Morgause and I improve the ritual with every incarnation. My brother … Merlin knows that sometimes the end justifies the means. He won't let us fail. Not this time."

Concerned, Hunith asked, "But what will happen after the Equinox?"

Shrugging, Morgana dipped up the last of the stew with her role, even licking out the bowl. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there. It's all we can do."

ϽОϹ

When Merlin coaxed the Dryad to give up her lovely prey, the next morning, the former prince was barely able to stay on his feet. "Now, pet, I hope you have learned your lesson. Your body belongs to me, to do with as I please. You will experience comfort, pain or pleasure at my convenience. If I catch you touching yourself, you will return here to remind you of your place. Then I won't make my Dryad give you up after a mere day. Have I made myself clear?" Despite the weakness of Arthur's nod, the message was recognized.

The blond obediently heeded the instructions of cleaning himself, before he followed Merlin down to breakfast. This time, when the warlock ordered, "Kneel," he obeyed instantly, swaying under the gentle touch when Merlin carded his fingers through his hair and praised, "Good boy."

The exhausted, young man sagged against his legs, in-between bites of breakfast. It was obvious that he wanted to stay strong, but after two days of staying on his feet; non−stop teasing and barely any sleep, Arthur simply didn't have any strength left. Merlin enjoyed seeing him succumb to his murmured praises, and made sure to rewards his good behavior after every bite he took from the warlock's hand, with tender touches.

The prince of Camelot had not only been a proud man; he had possessed an inner strength that had made him a force to be reckoned with, and though Merlin had been privileged to stay at his side in his darkest hours, Prince Arthur had rarely despaired. Had always soldered on for the good of his people. But in this century, all Arthur seemed to have was his pride. If you took that away, all that remained was a meek pet, starved for affection.

This would be easier than expected.

ϽОϹ

After a filling meal and some herbal tea, Morgause had sent over; Merlin guided Arthur back upstairs with but the tips of his fingers at the young man's back. He drew his pet a bath and urged him to relax into the scented water. With a soft sponge, the warlock cleaned him, rewarding his compliance by showering him with affection. Slowly the tea was taking effect, making Arthur pliant and passive. After washing and conditioning the golden strands, Merlin decided that it was now time to clean his pet's insides as well.

The young man was mostly asleep by now, sighing quietly when the warlock traced his anus, inserting the nozzle of the enema bag he had prepared. Since this wasn't meant to be a punishment, the bag was only half filled with a soothing herbal mixture. Yet after just the half of it had entered Arthur's body, the young man began to fidget. Not wanting to let this get out of hand, Merlin pulled his head back, instructing him sternly, "Don't fuzz now. I want you clean for today's lesson. Since you've been good so far, I haven't planned on hurting you. But I could change my mind anytime."

"Please," Arthur whimpered dizzy, too overwhelmed from the combination of sleep deprivation, Merlin's unexpected friendly touches and the herbal concoction he had been given. "It hurts."

"No, pet," the young warlock contradicted, easing his strong grip to caressing the blond's body instead. "I'll let you know when I plan to hurt you. Apart from that," he traced over the naked torso towards Arthur's erected cock, giving it a few superficial strokes and whispered into his pet's ear, "It seems that you enjoy this."

Arthur clawed weakly at the edges of the tub, torn between pulling back from the enema nozzle or pushing into the stimulating caress. He whined when the bag was finally empty, and Merlin ordered, "Keep it in. I don't want you to soil the water." Fortunately, he pulled the plug at the same time, helping his pet to stand. When he commanded, "Release," Arthur burned up in shame, humiliated to be forced to relieve himself in front of another person. Still, the pressure on his insides was too great, so he didn't really have a chance to contravene. Worst of all, his cock was hard and leaking turning this violation into something his body obviously enjoyed.

Embarrassed by his reaction, he allowed Merlin to manipulate him until he stood in front of the mirror. When the warlock ordered, "Stay," he shuddered but didn't even think about disobeying again.

ϽОϹ

Merlin took great joy in Arthur's reaction. Though his high priestess had promised a mild stimulating effect, he hadn't fully believed that the combination of herbs she had given him for the enema and the tea, could act both as a sedative and a stimulant. Yet his pet stood in the middle of his bathroom, quivering from shame as his body betrayed him. The picture was lovely, and Merlin took his time to enjoy the sight, before making himself known, now carrying lube and a black prostate vibe.

  


Caressing Arthur's backside, drizzling lube into his cleft, he explained, "Since you've been good for me so far, I've decided to grant you release."

Pushing first one, then two fingers into his pet's backside, Merlin continued, "As we've established already, you belong to me, hence you have no right to touch yourself. But I will train you to find release without that. I wouldn't want you to walk around, constantly on edge." Well, he would, actually; as his pet, would find out soon enough. But sufficient anal stimulation could make him cum, Merlin would make sure of that. Arthur might just need a while to get there. Caressing the lovely cock, the warlock asked, "You would like to come, wouldn't you, pet?"

Arching into the touch, the young man replied hoarsely, "Yes, please …"

"As you wish."

Slowly but steadily, Merlin started to work the vibrator into the trembling body. Arthur tensed at the increasing girth, but the hand massaging his cock took away any resistance. As soon as the toy sat snuggly, nudging his prostate from without and within, the warlock stepped back. Despite the weak resistance, Merlin managed to guide Arthur towards his comfortable armchair. When the plug shifted at him sitting down, he tried to rise again. But the warlock didn't allow that, gazing down sternly. After covering Arthur with a light blanket, Merlin asked expectantly, "What do you say?"

"Thank you, Sir," was the grumpy reply. His pet tried to find a comfortable position while the warlock turned towards his computer. Within five minutes of self−imposed stillness, Arthur finally succumbed to sleep.

Merlin smiled to himself, setting a timer and putting the remote for the prostate vibrator next to his keyboard.

This would be fun.

ϽОϹ

Fifty minutes later, his mobile pulled Merlin out of his work. Smiling he swirled his chair around, facing Arthur before starting the vibrator. The first minute of soft teasing brought his pet from a deep slumber into a light dose. The second minute, with increasing vibrations, made him sigh comfortably, pressing into the armchair to increase the effectiveness of the toy. Instinctively, he tried to reach for his cock, but at a flicker of his wrist, the warlock had his arms enfolded in the soft fabric of the armchair, pinning them to the armrests. When the third minute began, his pet woke fully, struggling against the constraints, "Let me go. You can't …"

Merlin interrupted him with a teasing smile. "You still don't get it. I can do whatever I want. And right now, I want you to come. I'm giving you all the incentive you need. You just have to make an effort. In time, you will learn to come by command alone."

When Arthur shook his head frantically, the dark−haired man chuckled. "You are right, of course. Let us not go ahead of ourselves. Today's lesson is you learning to come from just this. Don't worry. We have all the time in the world."

Increasing the vibrations yet again, Merlin drank in the picture. His pet, desperately arched off the chair before sinking back down, rubbing back against the seat. Conversationally, he explained, "There are seven levels on this toy. Every hour you're allowed a full minute in the first six and four minutes on the strongest setting. If you can come, feel free to do so. The faster you orgasm, the sooner I will allow you to sleep."

"You're insane!" Arthur spat, fighting against the restraints around his arms with all his strength. "You can't do this to another person! You …"

Turning the vibrations up yet another notch, Merlin rose from his chair. Despite his resistance, Merlin pulled back Arthur's head. "Remember, you asked for this, pet. A mere hour ago, I asked if you wanted to come. I'm just granting your request."

Watching his tormentor with hatred, the young man spat out, "This is not what I meant!"

The reply was utterly calm, "It is what you said. Yesterday, I told you to kneel. I allowed you to stand when you didn't want to. When you told me you needed to sit, I gave you a chair. Whatever you ask for, you're never happy when I grant it." Slowly dragging his fingertips down Arthur's cheek, down his neck, clutching his throat, the warlock whispered, "Maybe you should consider that you're not very good at judging your own needs and simply do as I tell you."

Stepping back, leaving Arthur gasping, the vibrator was put to the highest setting. "But maybe, you will need more lessons to realize that. For now, you have four minutes; make the most of it." And with that, he left the room.

When Merlin returned, the vibrations had stopped, and Arthur was rubbing himself against the chair, panting for air. When a bottle was pushed against his lips, he drank greedily but otherwise didn't look up. The warlock could not help but chuckle at that defiance, tussling Arthur's hair like he would a mischievous dog. "Don't worry, pet. I didn't expect you to succeed at first try. We have all day."

ϽОϹ

They did indeed need the entire day for Arthur to succumb to the stimulations. He raved and ranted whenever the toy started, but since Merlin had sound–proved his rooms, he really couldn't care less. Pointedly he ignored Arthur, concentrating on his work. Around five, however, his pet finally gave up all pretense of resisting the pleasure. He pressed into the armchair frantically, wiggled over the seat to keep up his arousal to finally find release during the next circle. When Merlin started the vibrations again, Arthur bit back a sob, doubling his efforts, yet couldn't come. When the highest setting started, he screamed. "Please … I can't. Help me. You've won … I'm begging you … just …"

Gracefully, Merlin rose from his chair, parting his pet's legs to kneel between them. Gently he brushed over trembling thighs, traveling higher, framing the dripping, purple cock with his fingertips. Kindly he assured, "But of course, since you have asked so nicely." Carefully avoiding his pet's erection, he pressed the prostate vibrator firmer into the shaking body and ordered, "Come!"

It seemed that Arthur's subconscious had just waited for that command. Merlin didn't even need to imbue it with magic. The force of his pet's orgasm stole his breath away, and the toy in Arthur's backside seemed to prolong it indefinitely. The blond was whimpering pitifully once he was spent, putting up no resistance when Merlin nudged up his pelvis to take out the vibrator. It seemed that Arthur had a submissive streak a mile wide if all he needed to let go was a simple command. Smiling at the thought of not even needing Morgause's herbal brews, the warlock gently cleaned his pet with warm water and a soft cloth.

The young man whispered meaningless words of gratitude when Merlin guided him to his pallet. Feeding him bits and pieces of lunch leftovers, the warlock had him drink another bottle of water before cuffed his hands above his head. He doubted that the young man would move an inch tonight, but it would do good to remind him that he was bound to Merlin's will in any given situation. Affectionately, he brushed Arthur's wayward strands out of his face and whispered, "Sleep well, pet."

"Thank you, Sir," was the nearly inaudible reply, but it made Merlin smile nevertheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be a little less devious and more fluffy. I'm still not sure if it fit's the tenor of the story but it was fun to write.


	5. Obey [Sunday (T−14)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little light is shed on Merlin's writing career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains more background story than teasing like the last few. I hope to make make the characters more relatable that way. I'm still looking for a writing buddy. Just saying.  
> Love for all of you.

Arthur rattling his bindings woke Merlin in the early morning hours. When the warlock turned around lazily, his pet glared at him. “I have to use the loo.” Obviously, he had been awake for some time, since his bedding was all wrinkled and wrapped around his body. He seemed mortally offended to have to discuss his body's needs. Well, he had to learn that his body didn’t belong to him any longer and that there were certain expectations he had to fulfill to get what he wanted. So, Merlin just raised his eyebrows in an ‘Is that so’ motion, before curling up again.

Three minutes, ten seconds later, the demand was phrased as a request, “May I use the toilet?” On an afterthought, a grudging, “Please,” was added.

Not good enough.

Eleven minutes and forty seconds, “Please, Sir, let me use the loo.”

One Triple Goddess. Two Triple Goddess. Three Triple Goddess.

“Of course, pet. You only had to ask.”

In Arthur’s defense, he really tried to be compliant, avoiding to look at Merlin when the warlock opened his leather cuffs and helped him up. Still, he tried to close the bathroom when Merlin tried to join him. This, of course, was unacceptable. Brushing his teeth, the warlock watched his pet fight with himself. He wondered how desperate Arthur must have been to let the Dryad of the Elmwood Tree take his liquids; he apparently was hardly able to relax with another sentient being present. Once finished with his teeth, Merlin reached for his pet’s arm, as if to pull him out again. Sternly he rebuked, “I really don’t appreciate being woken just for your fancy.”

“No, I need to go.” The young man stated, fleeing deeper into the bathroom so he couldn’t be dragged out. “I really do, I just …”

“So, sit down!” the warlock snapped at him, gesturing towards the toilet.

Reluctant, Arthur complied, trembling with his eyes glued to the floor, only slowly lifting his gaze when Merlin ordered, “Look at me!”

The raven–haired stepped in front of Arthur, blazing eyes digging into those of his pet. Either could reach out to touch the other easily, but Merlin avoided contact for now. The blond’s eyes started to flinch away but always returned as ordered. After five minutes of tense silence, the warlock slowly reached out, carding his fingers through his pet’s hair, before scratching his neck. “Go on,” he whispered softly. “I know you can do it.”

With a broken sob, Arthur’s hands flew to Merlin’s legs, clutching the soft cotton, while the hot stream of his urine hit the bowl, resonating through the room. Hot tears of humiliation soaked the warlock’s waistband, where his pet had hidden his face. “Shhh,” Merlin soothed Arthur, patting his head. “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

Somehow this made the blond cry even harder, but the warlock didn’t mind. Gently he caressed him until Arthur slowly calmed down. “Do you want to go back to bed and sleep for another hour or two?” At the answering nod, Merlin tilted the blond's chin up and looked at him expectantly.

Licking his lips nervously, Arthur whispered after a moment, “Yes, Sir.”

Smiling comfortingly, the warlock cleaned his pet, before they returned to the bedroom. Slipping between the covers, the young man held out his hands, prompting Arthur, “Join me.” Obviously unsure of where this was going, the blond obeyed but seemed terribly tense when Merlin wrapped his arms around him from behind. After a few moments, he admitted, “I have never been with a man … this way.”

Chuckling, the warlock assured him, “Don’t worry, pet. When I fuck you, you’ll be ready, even eager for it.” Whispering into his ear, Merlin promised, “I’ll even make you beg.” Of course, Arthur saw himself as a top. He had had affairs in the past, yet seemed to have always been on the giving end.

“What if I can’t?”

Well, this was not a possibility, but after the emotional and admittedly physical rollercoaster, he had put Arthur through these last two days, Merlin was aware that he had to give a little, as to not destroy his pet entirely. “Then it won’t happen. Sleep now. It’s barely six a.m. on a Sunday. Nobody should be awake this early.”

After a heartbeat of silence, a quiet but grateful, “Thank you, Sir.”

Smiling, Merlin nuzzled into Arthur’s neck, pulling him closer. “You’re welcome.”

ϽОϹ

When the pair entered the kitchen around nine, Hunith had just finished preparing a pot of coffee. Merlin managed to secure two cups before his mother put him and Arthur to work. It was a tradition in the house of Emrys to have an elaborate Sunday brunch with friends and family. Even after moving out, Morgana – and sometimes even her partners – would always join them, if no life–or–death situation kept them away. Most of the time, Morgause had done so as well. Until last Sunday, Merlin had not completely understood the close relations the woman shared with his family. Morgause was nice and all, but nobody had ever told him that Uther Pendragon’s secretary was actually his adopted sisters ‘real’ sister. Simply because nobody could proof it. In this incarnation, Morgana and Morgause had different mothers. The second time since Camelot or so he thought to recall.

For this weekend and the next, however, he had asked the sisters not to join them, though he would miss Morgana dearly. He had been a child when Hunith had invited Morgana to live with them. On his sixth birthday, his mother had shared her intentions to adopt the girl. Though Merlin hadn’t understood the strange connection between them, he had accepted the sad, pale nine–year–old into his home and family easily. Now he suspected that Morgause had shared their century–long history with his mother after coming into her memories, rescuing her 'not–sister' from the neglecting family her mother had left her with.

Hunith had always been wary around him when he was little, especially when strange things happened, Merlin hadn’t been able to explain. Like a duck with a broken leg, happily waddling out of his hands, after he had touched her. Or the picture frame of his father mending itself, after Hunith had brushed it off the wall while dusting. As a child, Merlin had been unable to understand, how his mother hadn’t been happy with him fixing things when other kids his age usually ran around breaking stuff. But as soon as Morgana had come to live with them, Hunith had started to relax and accept the little incidents without being worried all the time.

Once he had hit puberty, his magic, if not his destiny, had revealed itself. It gave him the chance to learn control. Kilgharrah had instructed both him and Morgana, on how to manage their powers and use them to the full extent of their abilities. Shared lessons of healing, destruction, the elements, the spirit and above all the Triple Goddess, had brought the teenagers closer together, even though Morgana was three years older than him.

Still, right now, Arthur was his priority, and the young man certainly would not be able to deal with being paraded naked in front of the entire family. They would certainly reach this point, but not today, not after mere two nights. So just the three of them were gathered in the kitchen, Merlin making sure that Arthur was only given tasks where he couldn’t hurt himself with hot oil or water. When everything was ready, Hunith ushered them upstairs to shower before breakfast.

ϽОϹ

Arthur was shampooing his hair when Merlin joined him in the bathtub–slash–shower with the enema. The bag was even fuller than the day before but lacked the herbal mixture that would excite Arthur. When the young man saw it, he tried to dodge and escape, but the warlock blocked the exit. Reaching out cautiously, as one would with a frightened animal, Merlin soothed Arthur, while gently stroking his jaw. “Don’t pet; you’ve been really good so far. Don’t make me punish you.”

The blond tried to avert his head, but Merlin held him fast. A little sterner he reminded, “Surely you have learned by now, that I always get my way. I will clean you today as I’ve done yesterday and will tomorrow and every day after that. Afterwards, you can spend a relaxing Sunday. But if you put up a fuzz now, I will put in yesterday’s toy and leave you to my lovely Elmwood Tree. Just this time, I won’t turn the vibrator off.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Arthur slowly turned around and pressed his fists against the wall. Gently Merlin patted his head, trailing his fingers down his back until he reached the buttocks. “Now,” the warlock demand, “Make a decision.”

His pet's trembling betrayed his inner turmoil. But the warlock had nothing but time and after a while, the blond forced out, “Please, give me the enema, Sir.”

“Very well.”

It was harder today since Arthur was neither exhausted nor pliant from the tea. So, Merlin stretched him languidly and took his time with the water. To ease his pet further, he touched him gently, soaping his back, massaging his tense muscles. When Merlin reached around, he found Arthur hard and with little incentive, his nipples beaded as well. No matter how little the young man wanted to admit it, his body enjoyed this treatment. When Merlin allowed him to relief himself, once the enema–bag was empty, Arthur didn't even try to banish him from the bathroom.

“Very good, pet. Now come here.” Merlin turned him towards the counter, once Arthur had patted himself dry. However, lube drizzling over his arse had his pet retreat in panic. “No, … no, no, no, no, no, … you said you wouldn’t punish me if I asked for the enema!”

“Arthur, come here!”

Reluctantly, the blond came closer and let the warlock put him back into position. Squeezing his eyes shut, he repeated brokenly, “You said you wouldn’t punish me. You promised!”

“You are mine now,” Merlin stated dispassionately. “To do with as I please. There is no need for me to lie to you. Now, look at me.”

When following the command, Arthur spotted a small, clear anal–plug in Merlin's hand. It was barely three inches long and less than two in diameter. Half the size of the toy he had been forced to suffer yesterday. “You know you can take this without discomfort, don’t you?”

  


Nodding reluctantly, the young man confirmed, “Yes, Sir.”

“Now, will you let me put this in, so we can join my family for breakfast, or will you continue to be unreasonable?”

“No, Sir,” Arthur swallowed around his dry throat. When the warlock didn’t move, he needed a few moments to recall what was expected of him. “Please, put the glass plug in me.” When Merlin pushed it in with nearly no resistance, he shivered from relief. “Thank you, Sir.”

ϽОϹ

When Merlin was dressed, ready to go, he noticed Arthur hovering beside his pallet. “Pet?”

Licking his lips, wringing his hands, the young man asked cautiously, “Sir, may I … would you allow me to ask for pants so that I don’t have to be naked in front of your mother?”

Merlin could absolutely see, how Arthur could charm his way in and out of any given situation. The blond was positively adorable like this, all hesitant with big, blue eyes, kneading his fingers. Still, he couldn’t let on how much this was affecting him. Otherwise, Arthur would use this tactic for everything he desired. So he crossed his arms and asked sternly, “What item do you have in mind?”

Hopeful, the young man rummaged through his bag and produced a pair of dark grey boxer-briefs. They shimmered in the sunlight and surely would look great on him. After a few tense moments, where Arthur’s face started to fall, Merlin agreed, “Since you were considerate of my mother, and very polite while asking, I will let you wear these whenever we leave my room.”

“Thank you,” his pet sagged with relief when putting on is underwear, shivering slightly when the glass–plug moved inside of him before he corrected himself hasty. “I mean, thank you, Sir.”

Merlin tilted his head just a little in acquaintance, collecting his laptop and tablet before leaving.

ϽОϹ

As was their custom, CNN was running on the telly, while Hunith, Kilgharrah, and Merlin lounged around the coffee table in the living–room. While the dragon was hiding behind the Sunday Times, polishing off an obscene amount of bacon, Hunith read Merlin’s latest script while her son served her breakfast. Merlin enjoyed picking bits and pieces off his plate to feed Arthur. Once everybody was satisfied, the warlock brushed his hand over the coffee–pot, reheating its contents before distributing it evenly between the four of them.

With a comfortable sigh, Kilgharrah remarked, “Things are so much better since you came into the full extent of your powers again, young warlock.”

“They certainly are,” Hunith chuckled, “Far less debris and the coffee is the perfect temperature.”

Laughing, Merlin defended himself, “I blew up the pot one time, mum, _one_ _time_ , **and** I put it back together afterward, didn’t I?”

“You certainly did, love,” she confirmed, lovingly petting his check before she started picking up the plates.

Unexpectedly, Arthur shot to his feet and demanded in a constrained voice, “Please, sit down, ma'am, and let me care for the dishes.” When Hunith conceded, the blond picked up as many plates as he could carry and dashed for the kitchen. Mother and son shared a puzzled look until the dragon explained, “You two take your family for granted, despite the challenges you face. Try to look at your conversation from our prince’s point of view.”

“Don’t call him that,” Merlin bristled. “He isn’t half the man Prince Arthur was, back in Camelot!”

“Of course, he isn’t,” Kilgharrah replied. “Since he had missed something vital until now.”

“And what should that be?” Merlin growled. “I’ve read up on him last Sunday. Interviews, Magazines, even his bloody twitter account. He had everything, everything my Arthur had and more. What on earth could he have been missing?”

Proving her uncanny ability to read between the lines, Hunith looked from her partner to her son and back again. The dragon gave her a small smile and tilted his head, when she replied, “You.” Smiling at her son tenderly. “He was missing you, Merlin. From everything I have been told, you were his other half, the power at his back that kept him on course, even in his darkest hour. This version of Arthur never had this support. Now, that the two of you are back together, it is your duty to guide him. Because you are his sorcerer and he will become your king.”

“I hate it when you do that.”

Reaching for her son’s head, kissing his hair, she smiled, “Allow an old woman her triumphs. Now go and take care of him.”

“Yes, mum.”

ϽОϹ

Arthur stood frozen at the kitchen counter, dishes vibrating in his fingers. Taking them away, Merlin wanted to know “What’s wrong?”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, the young man hastened to reply. “Nothing. I mean, nothing is wrong, Sir. Sorry, Sir, I just … I just wanted to clean the dishes since your mother was so kind to cook for us.”

Gently reaching for Arthur’s chin, Merlin turned him around. Softly he admonished, “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

“I’m sorry,” the blond whispered, closing his eyes to hide the tears that threatened to fall. “You have a lovely family.”

“I know. Now tell me what is bothering you!”

Fighting with himself, Arthur admitted, “My father and I … we never. He never looks at me like your mother looks at you, with so much love and appreciation in her eyes. With us, it’s all business. We never spend time together. Even before I moved out, we went our separate ways. My father obviously never loved me that much.”

Merlin could not even imagine how much that confession had cost Arthur. So, he cradled his pet’s face and contradicted, “I’m sure that your father loves you very much.”

“Sure,” Arthur hissed, pulling back from the affectionate touch. In any other situation, Merlin would have berated him for that, but right now he decided to let it slide. “He loves me so much that he sells me the first chance he gets. Given the choice between his precious company and me, he chose the company.”

“Oh, Arthur,” Merlin sighed, pulling his prince into a hug despite his resistance. After a moment, Arthur sagged into his arms, burying his face in Merlin’s neck. Soothingly the warlock brushed over his neck and back. There was so much more to this contract than money, but Arthur wasn’t ready for the truth. He had to enter the ritual at the Equinox on his own. Only then was there a chance for him to get his memories back and give the magic of their kingdom what it needed to survive. After a few minutes, the young man pulled back, looking at the ground embarrassed.

“I remember you telling mum that you would care for the dishes.” Merlin broke the tension. “So, get on with it.” Playfully tapping Arthur’s backside, the warlock managed to elicit a small smile before his pet vanished into the living–room to gather the rest of their breakfast.

Increasing the small gap of the kitchen window, the raven–haired leaned against the sill, petting the cat that lay in their flower box. When the beast meowed, Merlin sighed and nodded, still looking at Arthur through the frosted door. “Yes, I too am glad that Morgause decided to bring you here. I doubt that your biological father would have been able to give you a loving home.”

ϽОϹ

Once Arthur had done the dishes, Hunith brewed a huge pot of tea before everybody snuggled into their favourite corner. When Arthur sank to his knees, beside the couch, Merlin offered a cushion. “Make yourself comfortable; we’ll be here for a while,” pushing his tablet with the finished chapters of his next book at him, he prompted, “Read this.”

It would not do for Merlin to have an editor who wasn’t familiar with his work. Keeping in mind what he had learned about Arthur during his internet research, he hadn’t pegged the young man for a book–worm. But when he was nudged two hours later, his pet asked with shining eyes, “Sir, can I read the next chapters, please?”

“I’m afraid not,” Merlin chuckled, caressing the blond head because he simply couldn’t not. “Mum is currently proofreading them. Then I have to do some editing. After that, you can read them.”

“Oh,” Arthur looked at the stack of papers in Hunith’s hand somewhat dejected.

“I take it you liked it.”

“It’s very good.”

“And of course, you have a wide range of books to compare them to,” the proud author teased, still not believing that Arthur was much of a reader.

Shrugging, the blond admitted, “Father expects me to familiarize myself with most scripts we publish.”

Hunith wanted to know, “And do you like them?”

“Of course,” Arthur replied reflexively. “We at Pendragon Papers chose our authors with care, to maintain the high quality of our literature.”

Sharing an exasperated glance with his mother, Merlin reached for his pet’s head, tightening his grip on the blond strands warningly. Dragging back the head, so Arthur was forced to present his unprotected neck, pulling a little further just for emphasize, Merlin mumbled, “We’ve talked about you lying to me already. But for the sake of keeping this Sunday enjoyable, I will be lenient. Try again, pet, and don’t even think about telling my mother anything but the truth.”

Anxiety prominent in his eyes, Arthur swallowed through his tightened throat. “Yes, Sir.” Once Merlin let go, he waited for another heartbeat to lift his head again. “I …,” licking his lips, Arthur hesitated. “My father …”

“Isn’t here. Now tell the truth.”

Fidgeting, and not only because the shift of his body made the plug in his backside move, the heir of Pendragon Papers admitted, “No, I don’t really like most of the books we publish. Once we released a trilogy from a female author, who wrote under the pen name ‘Fey.' I liked it very much though it kind of had a bad ending since the main character died. It's called ‘The wicked Witch of Camelot.' The setting feels like yours. The books are written as a dairy, so it didn’t sell very well. But the story had so much heart; you couldn’t help but relate to the main character. The books share the history of a young girl who is raised in a castle, as a princess but is tormented by her own, latent magic at the same time. Eventually, the magic drives her mad, and she becomes this evil witch, hell–bend on destroying everything and everybody she ever knew, just to gain a crown that was never meant to be hers. She doesn’t feel evil per se … just … I don’t know … misguided and confused, because nobody ever took her side. Not with her life and not with her magic. Everything was just thrust upon her, so she drowned.”

“Sounds like a cheap Star Wars knock-off,” Kilgharrah commented, just to be contradictory.

“It’s not a knock–off of anything!” Arthur bristled, glaring at the dragon in human form, who had just mocked him. “There is heart in these stories and pain, and Fey did an amazing job in transporting her main character’s emotions. It’s a good series!”

Hiding a smile behind her hand, Hunith cleared her throat before she inquired further, “Anything else you enjoyed as much?”

“There was one paperback about a decade ago. It barely met the length criteria to be published as a book instead of a short story. It was called ‘The royal Servant.' It won a writing competition we sponsored. Publishing it was part of the contract. It had great potential, but we never learned the author’s name, since he was underage at the time, and his school represented him. Actually,” Arthur looked up, “Your story kind of reminds me a little of it. I’ve forgotten all about it, but your book brought it back to mind.”

“Is that so?” Merlin teased. “My writing reminds you of a child’s book …”

When Arthur got very still at that, Hunith came to his rescue. “Stop it, love. You know it was not meant as an insult.”

Barely daring to breathe, the blond confirmed quietly, “It was not. I’m sorry.”

Ruffling his pet’s hair, to ease his tension, Merlin wanted to know. “Anything else you enjoy reading?”

Shrugging, the young man admitted, “I like a few of our more popular authors as well, but … Well, father has the uncanny ability to choose scripts that will have a good public reception. But most of them are just …”

“Trash,” Kilgharrah stated drily. Though Pendragon Papers worked with a few colleges, publishing their teaching materials net cost, the rest of their catalogue might be well-liked but not very refined.

This time, Arthur could only give in and admit, “Yes … well … kind of. Our house was very successful in the past, but no,” he looked up at Hunith once more. “I don’t like most of the books I have to read for work. It’s just an occupational hazard, I guess. But I understand why we need your contract so dearly. It could help to re–establish our house as a serious publisher.”

ϽОϹ

For the first time, since Arthur had joined them, Merlin got the chance to get some work done, without being distracted. Mostly because Hunith offered the first published book of ‘The Mage’ series and Arthur got lost in memories of Camelot. Though, contrary to Morgana, Merlin hadn’t put his story in these legendary surroundings. But changing a few names and places didn’t really matter. It was still their life, their story and just like everybody else Merlin had known back then, Arthur seemed to understand that instinctively.

When they went to sleep that evening – Arthur hadn’t even put up a fight when Merlin had cuffed him – the young man whispered quietly, “Thank you, for letting me read your book.”

“You don’t get the chance to read much; I take it?”

“When I read it’s mostly for work. In the evening, I never take my time to research new books. I rather spend time with my friends.”

No wonder, Merlin realized, being scooped up in his office with work, must give him little time to indulge in the human contact he so desperately needed. In Camelot, Arthur had almost always been surrounded by his knights, fighting, roughhousing or drinking. In this century, he seemed to have little time for such fancy, not with his father breathing down his neck to either work in the office or entice aspiring, new authors for their company. Slowly the warlock began to grasp that the spoiled brat, he had taken Arthur for, was more like the young prince in the ivory tower. He was fulfilling his duties, but barely got any contact with people he really cared about and who cared about him in return.

Maybe it was time to find his knights …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Monday, Arthur has to return to the office. Merlin, however, won't ease up on him just because they are in public.


	6. Stand [Monday (T–13)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At first, Merlin couldn’t place the hitch in Arthur’s breath at that threat, but when he reached between the blond’s legs, he found him hard and leaking. Caressing his bollocks, carefully avoiding the cock, the warlock purred, “You would work around it and love it. Isn’t that so …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you have waited a very long time for this, but don't worry, I plan to continue this story, even if I might not finish it for a very long time. I plan to post at least the four more chapters, including two final chapters so you know where our boys are heading. I might return occasionally to add chapters in the middle but you will get how this story is supposed to end. However, there will be a second instalment that adds and finishes this story-line.

Breakfast the next day was a quiet affair since neither of them was very talkative at six–thirty in the morning. When Merlin entered the shower Afterwards with the enema–bag, his pet pulled back again. “You can’t put anything in me today! I have to go to work and …”

“And?” The warlock asked, voice dangerously low. Usually, he would be asleep at this ungodly hour. Just because this prat had to be at work at nine on the dot, was he even up. And now the guy even had the nerve to put up a fight.

“It’s distracting,” Arthur replied weakly, realising that he would not get out of this. Still, he tried to resist, and that simply wouldn’t do. So, Merlin clutched his neck and forced him to turn around. Putting the nuzzle into him, he crowded the strong body from behind, pressing him against the cold tiles. “You will learn to work around it, pet. Even if I decided to stuff your arse with a dildo as big as my arm and make you sit at your desk all day, you work around it! Are we clear?”

At first, Merlin couldn’t place the hitch in Arthur’s breath at that threat, but when he reached between the blond’s legs, he found him hard and leaking. Caressing his bollocks, carefully avoiding the cock, the warlock purred, “You would work around it and love it. Isn’t that so …”

“Yes,” Arthur whimpered, wiggling desperately to get some friction. But Merlin pulled back his hand, only holding him in place. When the enema bag was empty, he didn’t let go. “Now I will punish you. Five swats and if you’re leaking even a drop, we’ll start again. You’ll count them, and if you miss one, we’ll start again. Nod if you understand.”

They ended with seventeen strokes and by the time Arthur reached ‘five.' He had expelled all water, and his arse was slightly red. Merlin hadn’t strike him. When the warlock pushed him against the counter to lube him up, his initial resistance was gone. He offered a meek, “Thank you, Sir,” when Merlin showed him the ben–was balls he would put into him. Well, the blond might be grateful now, but soon he would find out that the steel–balls were double sided, promising an exciting day.

The next discussion occurred when Arthur insisted that he needed pants under his trousers. Merlin let him win this one, texting Morgana to find a suitable supplement for the silky boxer–briefs. Within three minutes, he received her reply in the form of a high–glossed picture. As expected, his sister did not disappoint.

ϽОϹ

Arthur gasped the deviousness of Merlin’s toys on their way to the tube. Shifting on the hard seat of the train, he hissed, “I can’t sit with these in me.”

Merlin's bored reply, "So stand," did nothing to ease his agitation. Sweat was beading on the blond's forehead when they finally entered Pendragon Papers. Not bothering acknowledging anybody, Arthur fled straight to his office.

Merlin, on the other hand, took his time to get to know Arthur’s secretary. He had no trouble recognising his prince’s former knight Leon, though, in slacks and a soft pullover, the formerly so intimidating man, looked slightly out of place in an office. Yet his sunny disposition made up for his threatening frame. Within minutes after their arrival, Leon had Arthur set up with some coffee and Merlin with a pot of tea. He even put a biscuit beside Merlin’s cup, winking at him on his way out.

Once the door had fallen shut, Merlin pondered, “I can’t recall giving you permission to sit down.”

Reluctantly Arthur got up but started to argue. “I have actual work to do here. And I need my computer for that.”

Calmly, Merlin walked over, staring him down. After a few moments of tense silence, the warlock stated, “It seems that our lesson from this morning did not suffice to remind you of your place. Do you want me to repeat it?”

Blanching, Arthur backed down, lowering his eyes to the floor. “No, Sir.”

With an absent-minded gesture and a whispered, “ _Brǽdan_ ,” the desk grew a few inches until it was the perfect height to use as a high–table. Gingerly, Arthur approached it, only turning his back at the last possible moment. He stood there, hesitant until the warlock crowded him from behind, informing him menacingly, “If you somehow forget how to behave, I will be happy to spank you again in the middle of this office, and I won't bother to lock the door. Am I understood?”

Shivering, Arthur replied in a hoarse voice, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” Merlin stepped back, approaching the sofa at the side to set up his own work–place. “Now get to work.”

ϽОϹ

The warlock was not surprised when Arthur’s fidgeting increased two hours later. He had drunken a cup of coffee and a bottle of water after all. He even noticed the glances his pet gave him but decided to wait until Arthur made up his mind of how to proceed. It was not as if he hadn’t taught him the proper way to ask for something.

“Sir, please, may I have your permission to use the loo?”

‘Congratulations, he can be taught.’ Merlin thought somewhat sarcastically before he looked up, “And which loo would that be?”

Hastily, the young man opened a hidden door to the side, revealing a small bathroom, complete with toilet, sink, and shower.

“Fine,” Merlin gestured, but when Arthur tried to slip in, he reminded him, “You will keep the door open.”

“But what if someone comes in?” The young man asked scandalised.

“Then they will find you literally with your pants down. Still, nobody is coming right now. So, you might want to hurry.”

Humiliated, Arthur pulled down his clothes and sat down. Merlin barely needed to clear his throat for him to look up, shame colouring his cheeks. Once he was finished, Arthur hastened to dress again and returned to his desk. But Merlin decided that his ongoing resistance needed to be punished. He rose from the couch and prompted, “Since you’ve already interrupted your work, you might as well show me the house. I would like to know the people that are about to work on my book.” He might even spot a few familiar faces.

It was evident that his pet wanted to protest but thought better of it at the last moment. Good, it seemed there was hope for him after all.

ϽОϹ

It turned out that Pendragon Papers was a mirror image of Camelot. Merlin found all the knights working there, staff and nobles he knew from his former life now occupied offices on various floors. Even Gaius was there. The man now held the position of editor–in–chief, having built the company together with Ygraine and Uther more than thirty years ago. It hurt to see his old friend. Even more so, when the man smiled kindly at him, but ultimately gave no indication that he recognised him. Kilgharrah had explained to Merlin that some souls were familiar and tended to seek each other out, no matter the incarnation. But that did not mean that friends from your last life would become your friends again, just like enemies did not have to stay enemies after all. Human relationships required time and effort, even for those who could remember.

Since this trip served two purposes: for Merlin to familiarise himself with his new surroundings and to punish his pet. Therefore, he made sure to choose departments that were at least two floors apart, using the stairs instead of the elevators. Though he gave his pet time to calm down between tackling different levels, chatting with various employees animatedly, Merlin kept him in a constant state of arousal, wounding him tighter with each new branch they requested visited.

It was already two o’clock when Arthur tripped on his way up. Having expected something like this to happen, the warlock wrapped his arm around his pet from behind, keeping him from hitting the stairs face first. Tumbling to his knees, the blond whimpered when the motion juggled the toys inside his body even stronger than before. Still, he knew better than to reach for his cock to find relief by pressing against it. Merlin was actually a little proud of him for that.

Watching Arthur’s knuckles turn white, because he was clutching the railing so vigorously, the warlock asked evenly. “Now, has your little rebellious streak come to an end, or should we visit the roof?”

“I can’t, please,” Arthur trembled, begging pitifully. “I have to work here. Everybody would watch me if I … made a spectacle of myself. They would lose all respect, and the company would suffer for it. Please, this is my family’s life’s work. Without it we are nothing.”

He really believed that. Regrettably more than the future of this company was at stake. So, Merlin replied harshly, “You still don’t get it, do you? You only work here because I allow it! Should I change my mind tomorrow to keep you locked up in my room, your occupation here would be over.”

Frantic, Arthur pulled back stumbling to the next landing, where he cowered against the balustrade to gain some reprieve. “No, … No, … I’m meant to be your personal assistant until you finish your series.”

“Really?” Merlin growled, tired of Arthur acting like an insolent little pup. “And what clause of our contract ensures your ongoing employment at Pendragon Papers? I promised that this publisher would release my next books. If I feel like you serve my creative progress best on your knees with a dildo in your ass and a cock in your mouth, I could chain you to my desk and would still be within the boundaries of our contract!”

“Please,” Arthur whispered, tears springing to his eyes, seeing his entire life getting wrapped up in chains. “I’ll be good, I swear. Please, just let me come to work. My father needs me. I’ll …” Closing his eyes, baring his neck, he whispered, “I will obey, Sir. I promise.”

Savouring Arthur’s submission, Merlin stepped up to him and place a warm hand on his pet’s neck. “I’ll take your word for it. But any more insurgency and I’ll tan your hide in the middle of the entrance hall. Understood?”

“Understood.”

ϽОϹ

Timidly, Arthur suggested lunch when they reached the next story. Amused, Merlin wanted to know, “You really wish for us to eat in the cafeteria?”

Looking at his tormentor, Arthur’s eyes turned impossible wide when recalling their last meals. Distraught, he proposed, “I could have Leon get us something.”

Not wanting to push his pet past his limits, Merlin agreed. “There is a sandwich shop at the corner of this block, that serves the most amazing club–sandwich in town.”

They walked down the two flights of stairs to reach the level of Arthur's office and swiftly sent Leon on his way. After having given permission to freshen up, Arthur emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, just in time to meet Leon entering with their lunch. The secretary took the sandwich; Merlin had suggested he bought for himself, before picking up Arthur’s discarded clothes, leaving Merlin and his boss to their own devices. His pet made an aborted motion towards the sofa but quickly folded himself to his knees, when Merlin pointed at the floor next to his armchair.

ϽОϹ

When they left around seven, the warlock was surprised to find Leon still at his desk. Arthur had asked permission to pick up some last-minute files from a co–worker, so Merlin took his time to browse his bag for his Oyster–Card. He was surprised by a heavy hand wrapping around his arm the moment he left the office. “A word, Mr Emrys?”

“Of course, Leon, how can I help you?”

“Listen,” the tall man demanded, stepping up to him somewhat threatening. “I’m not stupid, you know, and Arthur is my friend. I can see that something is going on between the two of you and I am not convinced that it is something good. The boss is nervous, even anxious in your presence. I know it’s none of my business what gets his boat floating, but I’m telling you now: If you hurt him I will end you.”

It was adorable, really. Someone else … well, everybody but Merlin, would be pissing their pants if a muscular man like Leon threatened them. But the warlock had known him, through several lifetimes. Leon wouldn’t hurt a fly if it were not absolutely necessary. Still, having him go all ‘mother–hen’ around Arthur could cause complications. So, with a sigh, he reached out to the former Knight. Eyes burning golden he looked up, digging into Leon’s mind. “I wouldn’t do that. You know me, Sir Leon, don’t you? I was your friend. I was friends with all of you but especially Arthur. Turn away from the present and look into the past.”

“Mer … Merlin?” Leon asked confused, reaching for his old friend. “You are … do you … I …”

This kind of magic was dangerous, both for the sorcerer and the victim, but Merlin only had to show Leon a glimpse of his past to …, “I need you to trust me. You know you can. I need only two weeks until the fall Equinox. Please, leave us be and believe in me. Can you do that, my friend?”

“Of course,” Leon smiled, somewhat confused. “Of course, I can trust you. Everything will be fine, right?”

Easing out of his former friend’s mind, Merlin smiled as he replied, “Of course, everything will be okay, I promise.”

When he looked up again, after having manoeuvred Leon back to his chair, he spotted Arthur standing in the door of the next office, white as a sheet. “Please,” the young man gasped as if even a deep breath could evoke the warlock’s ire. Slowly he stepped forward, sinking to his knees, even before his secretary and pleaded with utter despair. “Please, Sir, do with me whatever you want, but don’t hurt my friends.”

Sighing dejectedly, slowly this was all getting too much, Merlin prompted tonelessly, “Get up. I want to go home.”

ϽОϹ

Until they went to bed that night, Arthur was obedient to a fault. The warlock wanted to believe that all that had been needed to break his pet had been a threat to his friends, but he knew better. The fear in Arthur’s eyes was paired with resentment, and though he never contradicted Merlin openly, he still was not ready to give in. Even Hunith noticed that something was off and looked at her son questioningly.

Still, didn't have time to explain how he had nudged Leon’s memory as to not get the secretary, Arthur or himself into trouble. That would reveal too much of he wasn’t ready to share. He had tried, eighty years ago, and the Pendragons had set their hounds on him to chase him off their land. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

When he cuffed Arthur to his pallet, the young man merely looked at him before turning his back, gazing at the waxing moon outside the window. Twenty-one days to go and Merlin still wasn’t sure if he could break him in in time. Eventually, he might need reinforcements.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm still missing a beta-reader (please come forth if you are interested) I have done my best with tools like Grammarly and Word to erase as many mistakes as possible. If you spot a misspelling or a crooked sentence, please let me know.  
> P.S.: If you have any creative ideas how Merlin could torment Arthur, please let me know ;).


	7. Chastity Pants [Tuesday (T-12)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know that I have not posted in quite a while. Mostly because I can't find the inspiration to continue this story. I have two chapters of the 'body' of this story written as well as the ending. I decided to post it anyway because I don't know if I will ever finish. However, with the end already written, you will understand where this is going. If you have prompts what Merlin could put Arthur through, please share them, because I might return at a later point. I had a lot of fun being mean and sadistic and there might come a time I want to return to it.   
> Since a few people pointed out that they wanted to see this story continued, I consider this as a tiny Christmas present for them. Have fun and enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brushing over the head of his pet’s cock one last time, Merlin raised his thumb to Arthur’s lips. “Clean it.” The bright red tongue darted out and licked kittenish over the fingertip. Quietly, the dark-haired man demanded, “Look at me.”  
> When the blond raised his wide blown eyes, he berated, “You can do better than that.”

The next morning, Arthur was obedient to a fault, polite and submissive in anything Merlin ordered. He didn’t even put up any resistance when he received the enema, though it was filled to the brim for the first time. He merely breathed through the cramps, pressing his forehead against the tiles to cool his sweaty face. Things changed when he noticed that no underwear was left in his bag.

“I can’t go to the office without pants!” He protested, biting his lip, obviously considering to back down, but then raising his chin defiantly. He was able to hold Merlin’s gaze for about half a minute before he yielded.

The warlock took his time to reveal the leather–pants, Morgana had bought. Offering them, he smiled, “And I wouldn’t think about making you do that. Therefore, I got you something suitable.”

[Chastity Pants](https://www.extremerestraints.com/mens-harnesses_28/strict-leather-harness-with-3-penile-straps_4925.html)

Arthur paled when putting on the garment, hesitating when his penis remained uncovered. “You better get hard, or I will have to close the latches really tight for your little friend not to fall out.” Noticing the aborted movement towards his cock, Merlin watched the blond struggle with himself. The lesson with his Elmwood Tree obviously ran deep, since his pet didn’t dare to touch his own flesh any longer. Arthur’s shame lit his face when he discovered that there was only one way out of his current dilemma.

“Could you …,” his voice was barely louder than a breath, but the warlock had no intention of going easy on him. “Could I what? I hope you were not talking to me just now, because I know I have taught you better already.”

“Sir, could you … could you please help me to get hard?”

“Of course,” Merlin smiled, “come here.”

Eyes glued to the floor, the young man tentatively stepped closer. Merlin pondered, “I wonder how I should go about this task. Maybe I could hand you over to my lovely Dryad. She evidently feels bereft of your fluids already. Or I could spank you, just for fun. You seemed to enjoy that yesterday. Or I could just …” closing his fist around Arthur’s tender flesh; Merlin gave him a few, lazy strokes. His pet was always so easily excited that he didn’t even need a heavy hand. Arthur’s whimper and his rising cock was enough proof of how much his body enjoyed this. He was leaking profoundly when the warlock reached for the clasps, smoothing the first over the engorged penis. Arthur keened when he closed the other two before letting him go.

Brushing over the head of his pet’s cock one last time, Merlin raised his thumb to Arthur’s lips. “Clean it.” The bright red tongue darted out and licked kittenish over the fingertip. Quietly, the dark-haired man demanded, “Look at me.”

When the blond raised his wide blown eyes, he berated, “You can do better than that.”

Aware of what was expected of him and that there really was no way around, the blond’s eyes didn’t leave his when he sucked Merlin’s thumb into his mouth. The warlock certainly was not immune to the feeling, imagining easily how it would be to have another part of his body showered with attention. Still, they were not there yet, so he pulled back and asked, “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Sir,” Arthur replied in a hoarse tone, closing his eyes to hide his humiliation.

“You’re welcome, pet. Now go and finish dressing. We need nearly an hour to reach Pendragon Papers. Unless you don’t want to go there today.”

“No!” His pet replied panicking. “I mean yes, I want to go; I’ll be finished in a moment.”

ϽОϹ

Though the stimulation was far less direct than with the Ben–Wa balls, Arthur seemed considerably more aware of his erection today. He always angled his body just so, straightening his jacket to have it conceal his crotch. He didn’t even bother that he was forced to remain on his feet again, once they had reached the office. He just hid behind his desk, barely looking up when Leon brought coffee and a bottle of water.

Eleven a.m. on the dot. “Sir, may I please use the toilet.”

“Of course, pet.”

Merlin carefully kept his eyes on the screen until Arthur appeared by his side. “I don’t know how to …”

“Well,” the warlock looked up, relaxing back into his chair. As far as I’m concerned, you could kneel in the shower and relieve yourself there. Or we could find a straw to insert into your cock, would be the cleanest solution in my opinion. _Or_ , you can ask me to open the latches.”

It was evident that Arthur felt trapped between a rock and a hard place. Still, with an anxious glance towards the door, he forced out from behind clenched teeth. “Sir, would you please open the bindings?”

"It will be my pleasure."

Since the blond continued to look at the floor, Merlin merely rose from his seat and put his hand on his pet's hips. Slowly rubbing circles over the absolutely delectable hip–bones. When Arthur finally looked up, exasperated, Merlin chuckled, "Too you long enough," before edging towards the centre, caressing the constricted cock. His pet shivered visibly, needing all of his self–control not to rock against Merlin's fingers. When the first few beads of fluid welled up, Merlin opened the constricting bindings, making his pet groan helplessly. As before he wiped the tip, offering his finger to be cleaned. This time Arthur latched onto it with unexpected hunger, dragging his teeth over the soft skin.

The warlock allowed it for a few moments, before pulling back. Merlin's eyes had never left Arthur's; both were breathing faster, the air between them seemed to sizzle with tension. The young warlock had to force himself to pull back, the desire to claim his pet growing stronger with every heartbeat. But it would not do to let the blond think, for even a second, that he could get the better of him. So, he calmed his racing heart and prompted, "You may use the toilet now."

Lounging back in his chair, he spun around to keep his eyes on Arthur. Apparently humiliated the young man followed his unspoken command, not lowering his gaze. After a few minutes, where he had sat on the toilet, tension edged into every part of his body; he admitted defeat, "Please, I can't, relax if you keep looking at me like that, Sir."

"So?" Merlin asked, seemingly unconcerned.

Desperate, Arthur whimpered, "I need help. It hurts."

Taking his time, Merlin rose again and entered the bathroom. "Undress."

Biting down on his bottom lip, his pet got up from the toilet and did as he was told. Once he was naked, Merlin stepped closer and ordered, "Hands to the small of your back, turn around and face the loo."

Merlin's black denim scratching over his legs while the soft turtleneck caressed his back, making Arthur shiver from the contradicting sensations. When the warlock reached around him, tracing his torso with his fingertips, Arthur's hands clenched around the waistband of the jeans. Since he wasn't instantly reprimanded, he held on tighter so anchor himself. He groaned, closing his eyes when Merlin closed his fingers around his penis. Slowly he pulled it down. His breath was but a whisper in Arthur's ears when he instructed, "Relax … just let it flow."

Arthur swallowed heavily, obviously hating the fact that he had to humble himself by asking for assistance to pee since he had been unable to do just that. A scream burst out of him, when Merlin pressed on his bursting bladder all of a sudden, a hot stream finally hitting the bowl. He faltered when Leon knocked on his door, barging in without waiting for an invitation. Since the warlock had no intentions of sharing this alluring picture with anybody, his eyes burned goldenly and the bathroom–door snapped shut. He hadn't expected Arthur sagging back into his arms, but held him up nevertheless. Evenly he informed the man's secretary, "Please, give us a moment, Leon. Arthur just … tripped."

The amusement was audible in the tall man's reply. "Tripped … I see. I'll just hold your calls until further notice." Then the office–door fell shut behind him.

Slowly Arthur relaxed the death–grip he had had on the laces of Merlin's jeans, trying to slow his breathing when the warlock cleaned him before stroking him to full hardness once more, closing the clasps of his pants. He gave his pet a playful little swat before he left the bathroom.

When the young man emerged a few minutes later, he stated quietly. "Thank you, Sir, for closing the door."

Lifting his gaze briefly, revealing the dark glint of his eyes, the warlock stated, "I don't share well. "

ϽОϹ

When they left the office around lunchtime, Leon winked at Merlin. Since this served to embarrass his pet further, the warlock grinned, not bothering to correct the wrong assumption of the secretary. After choosing a corner table in the cafeteria, prompting Arthur to sit, the young man hissed, "You can't let Leon believe we're fucking! He's the biggest gossip of this company!"

"So?"

"They will think that I whore myself out for your contract!"

"And you've never done that in the past," Merlin remarked dispassionately. "You've never wined and dined an author, convincing him or her during breakfast in bed what an advantage it would be to sign a contract with Pendragon Papers."

"I …," Arthur recoiled, as the familiar picture the warlock painted sunk in. Rising from his chair, he stated, "I'm not hungry anymore."

Accepting this as fact value, Merlin ordered, "Drink your soda."

"I'm not thirsty either."

Looking up from his plate, Merlin held Arthur's gaze unrelenting while clarifying, "I did not ask if you were thirsty. I told you to drink your soda."

Annoyed Arthur reached out, took the can and fled.

Since the young author took his time after lunch to explore the building and get to know the employees a little better, it was already three in the afternoon when he returned to Arthur's office. Putting another bottle of water on his pet's desk, he returned to his laptop to get some more editing done. Arthur fought valiantly against his own needs, and though Merlin gave him permission to use the toilet, he denied his help with the bindings. However, he kept his pet under close scrutiny when he squatted down in his shower to relieve himself.

ϽОϹ

On their way back home, in an overflowing tub, the warlock made sure that Arthur was backed into a corner so no stranger would brush against him. That his hip repeatedly bumped against Arthur's crotch, with every rocking motion of the train, was pure coincidence. Since they were a little late for dinner, Merlin allowed his pet to keep his clothes. Yet it seemed that the constant rubbing of his slacks against his cock did little to ease his erection.

When Merlin released Arthur of the confinement of his pants, the young man spat out, "You have no right to do that! Days of constant teasing without release, painting me a fool in my family's company. You called me a whore in front of our entire staff!"

Secretly, the warlock wondered what part of his day had irked Arthur the most, but since there was no way to go into depth with any of these topics, he merely replied, "I didn't have to call you a whore. You did that all on your own. And regarding the teasing without release, don't worry, it won't happen again."

ϽОϹ

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The command made the blonde's desk shrink to its original size. A lazy gesture pulled the desk–chair out of the corner.  
> "Sit. I wouldn't want you to become weak-kneed today."  
> Aware that sitting would only push the plug in deeper, Arthur tried to argue, "I don't mind standing, really." When he realised that this argument would get him nowhere he begged dejectedly, "Please, don't make me sit."


	8. A Black Plug [Wednesday (T–11)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana's purchase had come with a little add-on, Merlin hadn't planned to use so soon. Yet since Arthur apparently had verbosely shared his problem with not being allowed to come, he had changed his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last consecutive chapter I have to offer. As I said before, I might return to this story eventually, at least for one chapter or another, but since it sat on my computer unchanged for nearly half a year, I don't think this will happen anytime soon. After this, there is just the ending and it's not exactly a happy one. Just one that fit the story. This was meant to be a two-part series, with the second part containing all the fluff I kept out of the first one. I just never came around to write that. Sorry.

Morgana's purchase had come with a little add-on, Merlin hadn't planned to use so soon. Yet since Arthur apparently had verbosely shared his problem with not being allowed to come, he had changed his mind. The enema once again contained Morgause's herbal cocktail, serving to 'excite' Arthur a little more, at least for a few hours. When Merlin added the black but plug to the leather band that would go between Arthur's arse–cheeks, the young man finally realised what was in store for him today.

Paling tried to escape the warlock's grip, "No … no, No! You can't make me wear this to the office!"

* * *

[Black Silicone Plug](https://www.extremerestraints.com/butt-plugs_1/silicone-derriere-plug_7480.html)

* * *

"It's either this or the vibrator. Honestly, pet, make up your mind. Yesterday, you complained that I would only tease you. When I obviously will allow you release today, you lament all the same."

Defensive, Arthur explained, "This is not what I meant."

"Well," the warlock replied coldly, "It's what you said. I'm giving you what you've asked for. Maybe you should stop lamenting things you consider 'unfair' and follow my orders without complaining. Anyway, this or the prostate vibrator. What should it be?"

"The plug, Sir." Was the defeated reply, and though he put up a little resistance, when Merlin sunk the slim, toy into his body he was hard within seconds even without the warlock touching his cock. 

Arthur groaned quietly when they made their way to the tube. Sharply Merlin reminded him, "No coming without permission! I will increase the plug to twice its size if you disobey!" eliciting a small whimper from his pet.

They were halfway to central London when the blond started pleading, "I can't, please, Sir, I can't hold back."

"Of course, you can," The warlock replied icily. "You know what will happen otherwise." It made his pet whine at the back of his throat, drawing attention from the other passengers, so Merlin leaned over, whispering into Arthur's ear, "You are putting on quite a show. Maybe I should change my mind and allow you to come right here, right now."

"Oh God, …" With this desperate reply, the young man ever so subtly pushed off his seat. Only Merlin's hand kept him in shifting frantically. They were drawing enough attention as it was. Merlin had to pull Arthur up from the bench when they reached their station. The young man was openly panting now, clutching the pole beside the door, desperately shifting his hips. Crowding him from behind, holding on to the overhead handles to shield his pet's face from view, he ordered quietly, "Come, pet."

The young man was aware enough to bite his sleeve, as to not shout out his release. When they reached their station, only Merlin's arms kept him from tumbling onto the platform. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and only the dark colours of his slacks kept the expanding wet spot on his crotch hidden. Arthur's face was scarlet with shame when the cooling semen made his trousers cold and sticky on their way up to the street.

The warlock let him suffer for a few minutes and only stopped him when they reached Pendragon Papers. Looking into the blond's eyes, Merlin brushed a hand over his crotch and mumbled, "Bescréade." The moment his eyes flickered golden, the stain was removed and the dress–pants once more in impeccable condition. Sagging with relief, Arthur muttered, "Thank you, Sir."

He was far less grateful when Merlin made him walk up seven flights of stairs to reach his office–level. Arthur started pleading for release again when they reached the fifth floor. Crawled more than he walked at the end of the sixth and trembled all over when they exited the seventh. The warlock's command to, "Come!" forced him to his knees again, unable to swallow the relieved groan.

Merlin allowed him a few minutes of reprieve before making him walk down the corridor to his office. The moment they rounded the last corner, he cast the cleansing spell again, polishing his pet up so Leon would not notice anything out of the ordinary. Apparently not eager to have an extended conversation, Arthur rushed past Leon and hid in his office. Merlin took the time to make a little small–talk before he followed.

" _Nearwian_."

The command made the blonde's desk shrink to its original size. A lazy gesture pulled the desk–chair out of the corner.

"Sit. I wouldn't want you to become weak-kneed today."

Aware that sitting would only push the plug in deeper, Arthur tried to argue, "I don't mind standing, really." When he realised that this argument would get him nowhere he begged dejectedly, "Please, don't make me sit."

The warlock, however, merely raised his eyebrows before claiming his usual spot. Defeated the blond sank into his chair, hissing when the plug brushed against his sweet spot. Trying to sit very still, he started his work.

ϽОϹ

Twice Arthur requested to come. Both times the warlock denied him. He enjoyed watching the growing desperation of his pet, waiting for him to realise that there were more pressing needs than orgasms. When lunchtime came around, Arthur politely asked for a bathroom break, and of course, Merlin lend him a helping hand, unclasping the latches of his pants. However, he directed his pet into the shower again, taking in his struggle when sinking to his knees. The pressure of the new position made Arthur whimper, nearly toppling over while seeking friction. Shifting his hips frantically, he seemed to have forgotten everything about his surroundings, his desire too great.

After a few moments of enjoying the enticing picture, Merlin wanted to know, "Do you need to come, pet?"

Arthur's eyes flew open when he became aware of his position once again. Zoning in on the warlock, he pleaded, "Yes, Sir, please … please, let me come!"

Admiring his beautiful, shivering pet, Merlin took his time before permitting, "Come!"

The force of his orgasm toppled the young man over. He managed to catch himself on his hands at the last moment, painting his upper body and the shower floor with his release. As soon as his orgasm subsided, there was no way from him to hold back any longer, so the blond had no chance but to soil himself. Even after the last drop had fallen, the young man didn’t rise. He trembled with humiliation and disgust since his bodily functions had simply escaped his control. Merlin could hear him wretch, the sharp smell of his urine apparently not agreeing with his stomach before a choked sob revealed the extent of Arthur's misery. He seemed torn between his desire to clean himself and only continuing to ignore his predicament. After ten, uncomfortable minutes, he asked quietly, "Sir, may I …"

With an inward laugh, the warlock rose from his chair and entered the bathroom. Carding his fingers through Arthur's strands, he whispered, "Since you were such a good boy, you may shower. But be swift about it, pet, I'm hungry."

Knowing better than to protest a trip to the cafeteria, the blond groomed himself so that his appearance wouldn't betray his inner turmoil and trailed after Merlin without another word.

ϽОϹ

The blond moved somewhat wooden when entering the cafeteria. Spotting a few people watching them, Merlin took mercy on his pet and sent him to a long table, at the centre of the room, picking up their lunch. When he reached their place, a few people had already gathered and were talking to Arthur animatedly. Nudging the blond, the warlock made him shift into the next chair. This time, Arthur flinched ever so slightly. Since he had been barely available these last few days, many colleagues jumped at the chance to request a meeting or bring him up to speed on one project or the other. Merlin made sure that Arthur had to move around the table, whenever a new employee came along. Two hours later, the young man could barely keep himself from fidgeting in his seat.

Once they were back at the office, with about ten minutes to spare until Arthur's first meeting of the afternoon, the warlock prompted, "Pull down your trousers and bend over the desk."

"But what if Gaius is early?" The young man protested weakly. "He said he wanted to discuss something important."

"Then he will catch you with your pants down if you don't get on with it."

Merlin took delight in watching Arthur bend over his desk, trousers falling to his ankles. Apparently, his pet's training was paying off. The young man groaned and clutched the edge of his desk when Merlin opened the leather strap that held the black but–plug pulling it out slightly to drizzle lube over it, before pushing it back it. Arthur's pucker was red and puffy already, and the anti–friction coating would ease the strain. Slowly pulling the toy out once more, lacing it with more lube before pushing it back in, served to excite his pet further. The blond was whimpering when Leon announced over the intercom, "Arthur, Gaius is here to talk to you."

Leaning over the flexible body, to reach the phone, Merlin instructed, "Please, give us a minute, Leon."

"Certainly," was the cheeky reply before the connection was terminated.

Staying where he was, the warlock whispered, "Do you want to come again, pet? Your afternoon is quite full, and I think that this might be your last chance for a few hours."

Though his eagerness was evident, Arthur clenched his teeth and shook his head. Propriety still won, so Merlin chuckled and clasped his pants shut. Once again pushing the plug deep into his pet's body. He brushed over the tip of his cock, collecting the fluids Arthur had produced in abundance, before lifting his fingers to the blond's lips. "Clean them," he instructed.

Hesitant, the young man's tongue darted out, and when Merlin was clean, he pulled up Arthur's slacks, so he was in pristine condition once again. "Go, wash your hands and face. I'll welcome Gaius."

With a hasty, "Yes, Sir," Arthur dashed into his bathroom, before greeting his old colleague; joining him and Merlin on the couch.

After Gaius, a guy from public relations occupied their time and after him an event–planner with certain … assets and a very annoying voice. She wanted them to go over the plans for the annual party Pendragon Papers was throwing for its authors and employees. Obviously, Arthur attending the party was mandatory; he was even expected to deliver a speech. Since the event happened on the eve of the Equinox, it would most certainly be evening.

Miss 'obnoxiously–excited' was followed by Leon, who used the gap in Arthur's meeting schedule, to bring his boss up to speed on the upcoming summits he was supposed to attend this week. Also, Arthur had a dinner date with a potential new author he had met two weeks prior. Though the blond's gaze jumped towards Merlin, the warlock didn't protest this appointment. His pet would meet this potential author in two days, and he would certainly find a way to make it an exciting evening.

Once everybody had left, Arthur requested another bathroom break. This time, Merlin joined him, making sure that his pet could relieve himself without finding release. Afterwards, the blond returned to his desk, to get some more work done. Though he seemed determined not to ask for permission to come, the need for it was edged into every part of his body. To find out how his pet would react to a change of rules, Merlin uttered a spell that made the toy pulse ever so slightly while slowly expanding and decreasing its size at random. Though Merlin appeared concentrated on his computer, he watched Arthur with eagle's eyes. That close scrutiny was the only reason he even noticed his pet holding his breath, freezing in his chair before sagging against the backrest.

Naughty. Naughty.

But since Morgause had requested a chat, he would let it slide … for now.

When his high priestess came in a minute later, Merlin let Arthur literally stew in his own juices. At some point, he asked the blond to join them on the couch, when Uther's secretary asked about his next book.

Though his pet did a good job of hiding the stain in his pants, it became visible when he saw Morgause out. Merlin, pointedly looked at it, shaking his head disappointed, before returning his attention to his laptop. He did notice how pale his pet had become. Arthur would be punished, and both knew it. Not knowing when that punishment would take place would only serve to disquiet him further.

Though he shivered in the tube and stopped several times on their way him, he neither asked for relief nor for permission to clean himself.

ϽОϹ

Since Merlin had kept his pet well hydrated all through the day, his request to use the bathroom didn't come unexpectedly. Gazing at the blond coldly, he replied, "You didn't ask permission to relieve yourself in the afternoon. So, I'm slightly surprised that you bother with it now. Since I don't expect a little piss to make any difference, you might as well go right here."

Catching up with what Merlin was implying, Arthur turned white as a sheet. "You expect me to piss my pants."

"It's not as if you haven't soiled them already."

Closing his eyes in shame, Arthur choked, "Please, Sir, I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Just let me use the bathroom."

Exchanging his dark jeans with comfortable sweatpants, Merlin didn't even bother denying this request. The blond fought with himself, for all of fifteen minutes before giving in. The sharp smell of his urine filled the room, and while Merlin cleaned up the puddle on the floor almost instantly, he ignored the drenched pants.

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered after a while, shifting in his cold and wet trousers, but not daring to move. "I just couldn't hold back any longer. The plug became too much."

The warlock didn't lift his eyes from his grimoire, so the blond continued, "I should have asked for permission, but …"

"But what?" Merlin replied mercilessly. "It's not as if I haven't let you come several times today. You disobeyed just out of spite. There is no excuse for that."

Flinching back from the cold tone, Arthur seemed to hunch into himself further with every word. His guilty conscience was evident, but the warlock wouldn't grant him a reprieve. Not this time. His pet was a picture of misery, but he ignored him until the young man breathed out, "Punish me."

Barely lifting his gaze, Merlin asked, "Excuse me?"

Boulder, Arthur raised his chin and repeated, "Punish me, Sir. I deserve it for my defiance."

Looking him up and down, noticing how hard he tried to be brave, the warlock finally put his book away. "Fine, come here."

While Arthur approached him, Merlin spread a blanket over his lap, commanding, "Bend over."

Once his pet complied, he started to spank him like an unruly child. Explaining dispassionately, "Since you've shown as little control over your bodily functions as a toddler, you are punished like one."

Merlin didn't give a number because he had no intention of stopping this punishment until Arthur had come again. Hitting the soiled pants, again and again, he pushed the plug deeper into his pet's body with every hit, trapping his erected cock between his thighs and Arthur's own body. The cold and wet cloth rubbing over the blond's erection continually proved the desired effect in no time. After but a few minutes, the blond was squirming, and only a strong hand on his nape held him in place.

"Please, Sir, …" A desperate but empty request since Arthur didn't even know what he was begging for. His body shifted restlessly, yet he still made a valiant effort not to come. After ten more minutes, Merlin's hand was already growing numb, he panted, "I have to … I will … please, Sir, please let me come."

Raining down a cascade of swats, Merlin pulled up his pet's head to catch his gaze, ordering, "Come."

The orgasm that followed was so intense, Arthur slipped right off Merlin's lap, curling up at his feet while the release wacked his body.

Once he had calmed and the latest fluids plastered his trousers to his body, Arthur pressed his forehead to the warlock's knee and muttered, "I'm sorry I didn't ask permission before."

Tenderly caressing the blond's head, Merlin finally recast the spell that would clean his pet before he assured him softly, "I believe you. You're forgiven." He spread his legs further, when the young man sagged against him, drawing him in and patting him gently.

When his mother called them down for dinner, Merlin made sure that Arthur was fed before sending the young man to his pallet. He was exhausted enough and didn't need to share an evening meal, that could very well last an hour or more, since Hunith had put his script on the table, indicating that she wanted to talk about it.

When he returned to his room, he found Arthur fast asleep in but the leather pants he had worn all day. Gently Merlin removed them and cuffed his pet. Today had not been great, but he had high hopes for the future. Especially since Arthur had folded so easily under the force of his disapproval. His desire to earn forgiveness after making a mistake was a step in the right direction.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 – [Thursday (T–10)]  
> Chapter 9 – [Friday (T–9)]  
> Chapter 10 – [Saturday (T–8)]  
> Chapter 11 – [Sunday (T–7)]  
> Chapter 12 – [Monday (T–6)]  
> Chapter 13– [Tuesday (T–5)]  
> Chapter 14 – [Wednesday (T–4)]  
> Chapter 15 – [Thursday (T–3)]  
> Chapter 16 – [Friday (T–2)]  
> Help me fill these days and this story will expand. If I get a really good feeling watching a toy, I most certainly will find the inspiration to fill in these gaps :).


	9. The Party [Saturday (T–1)]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hand's behind your back," Merlin ordered, not even bothering to check if his command was heeded, his pet too enticing to watch in this unusual situation. Arthur was breathing faster already but seemed torn between allowing himself to be fascinated and pulling back appalled. Nature versus nurture, or so it seemed since while he usually got excited when being humiliated or was in danger of exposure, Uther's 'how to act like a real man' appeared to be ingrained deep in his mind. Tonight, was Merlin's last chance to liberate him from the confinements of his upbringing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that nine days has last between the last and this chapter. I might fill them eventually, just not now. After this one there is only one more and I'm afraid it won't have a happy ending. If you still have the stomach for it: enjoy :).

Merlin watched their reflection in the bathroom mirror while fucking into Arthur from behind. The blond was holding on to the counter for dear life, providing a counterpoint to the warlock's powerful shoves. They had done this, three times already. First in the shower, right after Arthur had received his enema. Then in the storage closet, after having arrived at the Somerset House. Only the best for Pendragon Papers it seemed. The warlock had enjoyed sneaking Arthur away from his duties and claiming him with but a cheap wooden door separating them from Uther and the staff. Now the dinner was ongoing, and Arthur would have to deliver his speech shortly, filled with Merlin's seed and stuffed with a sizable glass plug so he wouldn't soil his smoking.

When their eyes met, the warlock could see how desperate his pet already was. Pupils blown wide, Arthur's breath was coming in short gasps whenever he hit his sweet spot. Still, the blond knew better than to come without permission. He didn't even need a chastity device any longer. Yet, when Merlin pulled him against his chest, whispering into his ear, "Do you want to come?" he nodded frantically. "Yes, … oh god, yes Merlin, please!" Emptying himself in the pliant body, the warlock promised, "Soon." He ignored the suppressed sob when pushing the glass plug back in, caressing his pet's face. "You just have to get through this evening, and once you have made me proud, I'll make you come so hard you'll pass out."

"Will you fuck me again?" Arthur asked hopefully since, despite their frequent intercourse, he had yet to be permitted to come while Merlin was still within him.

Straightening the blond tresses, Merlin brushed over his cheek tenderly. "Tomorrow! We've talked about this, pet, haven't we?"

Marring his bottom lip with his teeth, Arthur lowered his eyes. "Yes, Sir, I'm sorry for asking."

"Only a few more hours. You can do that, right? You can make me proud."

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur whispered, looking up with big, hopeful eyes and was rewarded by Merlin kissing his forehead.

"You've been so good for me, today. All that's left is you delivering your speech, a little dance, and fun and we're out of here." Adjusting the lapels on his pet's jacket, he prompted, "Now go. I'll be out in a minute." With an obedient nod, Arthur left the bathroom.

Straightening his hair, Merlin scrutinised his reflection and smiled. Arthur's training had certainly paid off. There would be no problems during the Equinox. Together they would save their kingdom and Afterwards everything would be back to normal.

"I can hear you, you know," the warlock chuckled. Turnin around, he leaned against the counter and opened the centre stall with a mere flicker of his fingers. With a lewd grin, he took in the enticing picture of Lancelot DuLac, who tried to hide his erected cock, cheeks burning red. "Tz, tz, tz, I wonder what my sister has to say to this. Somehow I doubt that she will be pleased with you wanking in a public bathroom."

Hastily straightening his clothes, the man stumbled out of the stall. "Please, don't tell her. I didn't come, I swear. I just heard the two of you and I couldn't …" Trailing off, aware that he couldn't really justify his lack of self−restraint, the dark–haired man gazed at the warlock pleading.

"You didn't come?"

Swallowing around his constricting throat, Lancelot shook his head. "No, Sir." On an afterthought, because judging from what Morgana had told him, the adopted siblings shared a taste in bed–partners, he put his hands behind his neck and offered hoarsely while stepping closer. "You can check, if you want, Sir."

Smiling, Merlin reached out to brush his fingers over the man's clothed erection, eliciting a quiet hiss. "And for whose benefit would that be, Lance, mine or yours?"

"Both, I imagine," the dark−haired man gasped, fighting valiantly not to push into the warlock's hand.

After a few moments, Merlin pulled back, causing a whine. Entwining their fingers, he pulled Lancelot close so the man could rest his forehead against Merlin's shoulders. "You've done well, Lance, but now you have to calm down. We wouldn't want you to make a spectacle of yourself, in the middle of the ballroom." When Lancelot shuddered, he had an exhibitionistic streak a mile wide; Merlin put a steadying hand on his nape. "You're so good. Morgana will be proud of you."

When the dark−haired man pulled back and offered a sheepish smile, the warlock chuckled, "You're such a slut, honestly, spreading your legs for anyone who's around."

"One of my best qualities," Lancelot replied with a wink, tousling his hair artfully in the mirror, all traces of the needy sub having vanished under Merlin's careful ministrations. "See you later, Merlin."

Shaking his head at his sister's insolent sub, the warlock followed at a more moderate pace. He still had a few more key–points to suffer through, this evening, before the enjoyable part of the night could begin.

ϽОϹ

Arthur's speech had been written beautifully, partly thanks to him and delivered perfectly. At least in Merlin's opinion. Uther − as it seemed − had a different view since he, as soon as his son returned to their table, started to criticise content, delivery, and tempo. The warlock could practically see his formerly glowing pet fold into himself.

Once Uther was finished and turned towards his date, Merlin put a comforting hand on Arthur's thigh. Slowly stroking the thin fabric, he whispered, "Uther Pendragon is a petty idiot, who can't stand his own son outshining him. You were brilliant, Arthur, and I am so very proud of you." He could see the relief and a little joy returning to his pet's face, and though Arthur still couldn't take a compliment, he relaxed noticeably at the praise. So, the warlock couldn't help but tease a little, sliding his hand higher, nearly touching the blond's crotch. "Once we are out of here, you'll get your reward."

His pet's nails scratching the tablecloth proved how very much he liked that outlook. Still, there was desert and dancing before they could make their exit.

An hour later, Morgana went out of her way to flirt with her half−brother. Since Arthur was not aware that they were blood-related on his father's side, he kept a professional distance, no matter how much the witch toyed with him. Merlin used the chance to dance with Gwen, gossiping about her girl–friend–slash–employer.

"She will eat him alive if you let her have a go at him," the dark−skinned beauty reminded him, occasionally glancing at the mismatched pair.

Shaking his head, Merlin laughed, "No, she won't, my sister knows better than to take what's mine."

Lancelot stepping up to them from the side, reached for the lovely Gwen's hand while reminding him, "Morgana is very good at sharing." He gestured at himself and Gwen.

"She certainly is," the warlock confirmed, kissing the dark woman's hand before offering it to Lancelot. "I, however, am most certainly not. "Retreating he caught Arthur's eyes and ordered quietly as soon as the young man approached, "Use the restroom and clean yourself. I'll be expecting you in ten minutes at the front gate." Eyes lighting up, his pet dashed towards the bathroom, leaving Morgana in the middle of the dancefloor.

"Spoilsport," his sister accused, offering a glass of champagne she had taken from a passing waiter.

Accepting the drink gratefully, Merlin reminded her, "You can have your shot on Monday, Morgana. Until then he is mine. You made sure of that! Afterwards, feel free to add him to your harem."

"Having a boy− and a girlfriend hardly adds up to a harem," the witch snickered. "And it's not as if I have a shot. Your little pet worships the ground you walk on. He would never choose another over you."

"Because that's how I trained him!" Merlin snapped. "Things will be different once he remembers!"

Studying at her brother with concern, Morgana paled. "You've fallen in love with him already," she breathed. "Oh, Merlin." Pulling the young man close, she whispered, "You don't know what will happen tomorrow. I'm a seer and not even I am sure. Arthur has loved you for countless lifetimes. Maybe he will do so again in this incarnation."

Drawing strength from his sister's unwavering support, Merlin pressed their foreheads together, squeezing his eyes shut when reminding her, "I've never tortured him before. But it does not matter." Stepping back, he looked into eyes that burned as golden as his. "All magical beings of our world need him. What happens, or will happen between Arthur and me doesn't matter. Not this time."

"Well," Morgana emptied her own glass, handing it over. "Let's see how well he does with different options."

Merlin hid in the shadows, watching his sister making another pass at his … at Arthur. Though the blond couldn't know that he was watched, he still, politely but determined, refused Morgana's advances. He accepted her card but left her behind when he had but one minute to reach the front door in time.

Turning around, merely raising her eyes, as if she wanted to say, 'Told you so,' the dark−haired beauty caught up with Gwen, who had just exited the woman's toilet.

The warlock caught a glimpse of his waiting pet when he was just crunching up the business card, throwing it into one of the ashtrays that lined the way.

"Morgana LeFey indeed took an interest in you." Merlin forced himself to smile when Arthur turned. "You were exceptional today, pet. If you wish to spend the night with her, I could consider it your reward."

Slowly the excitement that had lit up Arthur's face a mere moment ago dissolved. Lowering his gaze, the blond mumbled, "If that's what you wish, Sir."

Confused by that reaction, Merlin tilted up his pet's face. "I just asked your opinion. Tell me what you are thinking."

Barely able to meet the warlock's eyes, the blond recalled, "You promised that, if I were good, we would spend the rest of the night together. That we would play and that I might be allowed to sleep in your bed again. Now you try to send me away. You said you were proud of me. What did I do wrong?"

Relief flooded Merlin's body when he pulled his pet into a hug. Everything would change tomorrow, but tonight, Arthur was still his. "You were perfect today. And if you wish to share my bed this evening, you have certainly earned the privilege." Smiling, enjoying when Arthur beamed again, he prompted, "Now, get into the limousine and undress."

ϽОϹ

When the warlock relaxed into the luscious leather seats, his pet was already kneeling on the floor, in the middle of the car, shivering from excitement. Arthur was already rock hard and leaking, his eyes fluttering from the Sybian to Merlin and back. Though the warlock had used this toy to before to teach his pet a harsh lesson, namely not to come without permission, there was only a glimpse of apprehension in Arthur's gaze. Since this was supposed to be a reward, Merlin assured him, "I'll allow you to come tonight, but only once. And after that, we will turn it off."

Swallowing slowly, the blond nodded and reached for the flesh−coloured appendix that made the centrepiece of the machine. "Can I … can I turn it on?"

Chuckling, the warlock relaxed into the seat and pulled a package of lubricant from his pocket. "Of course, pet. You might just want to prepare it before hopping on."

Arthur looked absolutely delectable when he slowly lowered himself down on the machine. He had been stretched all day, so there was not even a hint of pain when he accepted the toy into his body. He shuddered when it brushed over his sweet spot, groaned when he rotated his hips to catch it again. Holding himself upright over the vibrating machine, he used the full range of motions to get the most stimulation. That, however, was a little too much liberty for Merlin's liking.

Increasing the vibrations, he opened the sliding roof and instructed, "Reach over your head and hold on to the edge of the roof."

Hoarsely, his pet protested, while obeying at the same time. "You said that I would be allowed to come."

Coldly, the warlock reminded him, "You're still riding the Sybian. Are you actually talking back to me right now?"

Clutching the edges of the roof harder, Arthur shook his head, replying through a groan, "No, Sir." His cock was spurting pre−come since − as always − Merlin's harsh tone only served to excite him further. To add to that, the warlock cranked up the vibrations and added subtle rotations to the toy in Arthur's arse.

"Oh God," his pet breathed, lifting himself slightly, only to push back against the artificial cock. He was rapidly approaching his orgasm when Merlin ordered, "Hold still!"

Keening, Arthur kept himself suspended, shuddering from his need to come. Reaching out, the warlock clutched the blond's hair and pulled back his head. "If you come without permission, I will keep you here all night. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" His pet cried out, lifting himself further off the toy. But that was not what Merlin wanted. Slowly, he let go of the hair and clutched Arthur's hips, pushing him back down. "Eyes on me," he ordered while sinking onto his shanks, within touching distance. One by one, he opened first the buttons of his jacket, then his dress−shirt. After every article of clothing he lost, he increased the rotation or the vibration a little. His pet was already clutching the roof for dear life when he finally freed his hard cock.

"Sir, please!" Arthur wailed, though neither man was sure what he was pleading for. Merlin fisted his cock, slowly pleasuring himself while enjoying the breathtaking picture. His pet tried to lean forward every other minute and tried to brush over the cock; the warlock presented so freely. But he had to pull back before he could even reach it since the stimulation became too much in this position. He knew better than to come. When Merlin brushed over his own head, gathering semen to offer it to Arthur, the blond started to suck his finger desperately.

When his pet finally released his digit, the warlock trailed his lips, before clutching his neck. Slowly blocking the blood−flow to his brain, he rose to his knees, so he was but a hair's width away, breathing over Arthur's face, "You can let go the moment I come."

"I can't, …" his pet rasped, "I can't see your cock, Sir."

Dragging him closer, Merlin whispered into his ear, "If you can't judge me coming from the look on my face, you don't deserve relief." Slowly pushing him back, so that he was holding on to the roof with but the tips of his fingers, the warlock adjusted his grip. He wanted to blond to enjoy his orgasm, not pass out the instant it hit him.

For endless moments, they remained suspended, Arthur holding on to his composure, Merlin slowly jacking off. He more felt than heard his pet whining, the moment he finally reached completion. Putting a steadying hand on the back of his neck, he allowed Arthur to ride out his orgasm, frantically fucking himself on the Sybian, until the last of his seed was spilt.

Merlin was not prepared for the sob that tore out of his pet's throat, nor for the tears that started to stream down his cheeks, the moment he turned off the machine and watched their combined seeds dripping down his body. But since this was not for his but Arthur's enjoyment, the warlock immediately pulled him close and started to caress him to soothe his agitation. Pulled off the toy, the blond huddled into Merlin's lap, clutching onto him for dear life. Leaning back against the seats, the warlock stabilised Arthur and caressed his back while whispering, "You were so good. I'm so proud of you. You were absolutely fantastic."

After several, long minutes, Arthur finally whispered, "Thank you, for sharing your pleasure. It's all I ever wanted."

Taking a deep breath, Merlin wrapped his arms tighter around him, kissing his head. He could barely keep the strain out of his voice when he whispered, "Anytime."

ϽОϹ

Merlin caresses Arthur's hair one last time before he prompted him to dress before they reached the house. Three minutes after their arrival, the door of the limousine was opened. Guiding his slightly unsteady pet out, the warlock put an arm around his waist, turning around to look at the driver. "Did you watch us?" he wanted to know.

Nervously the dark–haired man scratched his neck, mumbling embarrassed, "Of course not."

Kissing Arthur's temple, the warlock stepped closer and decided, "I think you are lying to me, Lancelot. Though I appreciate the lift, I certainly don't care for such disrespect."

Though the young man immediately started to protest, Merlin merely raised his hand. Turning once again, he held out his hand, inviting Arthur to join the conversation. "What do you think, pet? Did this insolent, little sub spy on us while we were pleasuring each other, or is he telling the truth?"

Of course, Merlin knew about Lancelot and Arthur's superficial acquaintance through Pendragon Papers. Though they were not friends (for now), they were members of the same rugby team. Said team occasionally entered amateur tournaments under the logo of their company, if there were held for charity. Since he wanted Arthur to be able to meet Lance's eyes on Monday, he had to give him some semblance of control over the situation. Though slightly uncomfortable, his pet pondered, "I doubt that he is telling the truth. He seems too excited for merely driving us."

"Is that so?" The warlock pondered, scrutinising their driver. "I think you are right, but to eliminate any chance for error, you should drop your pants, so we can see for ourselves."

Knowing better than to protest, the young man started to unbutton his trousers, hissing quietly, when his erected cock hit the air.

"Hand's behind your back," Merlin ordered, not even bothering to check if his command was heeded, his pet too enticing to watch in this unusual situation. Arthur was breathing faster already but seemed torn between allowing himself to be fascinated and pulling back appalled. Nature versus nurture, or so it seemed since while he usually got excited when being humiliated or was in danger of exposure, Uther's 'how to act like a real man' appeared to be ingrained deep in his mind. Tonight, was Merlin's last chance to liberate him from the confinements of his upbringing. So, he murmured into his pet's ear, "I think for lying to us, he deserves a little torment before we let him come. To achieve that, we have three options. One, I could do it. It certainly would be no hardship."

Arthur tensing ever so subtly told Merlin that his pet didn't like that possibility.

"Two, we could make him to it himself, he would be a sight to behold."

The blond in his arm relaxing again was a good sign, but there was still option number three. "Or, of course, you could do it."

"What?" The choked question and the shiver that ran over the blond revealed that this might be the preferred option. So, the warlock put a hand on the small of his pet's back and nudged him towards Lancelot.

His sister's sub apparently seemed to like that idea, since he leaned back against the car, subtly jutting out his hips to present himself most enticingly. Reluctantly, Arthur approached, hovering right in front of Lance, apparently indecisive of how to continue. "What should I do?"

Whining at the back of his throat, Lancelot looked pleading at Merlin, who sauntered over and relaxed against the door, next to the two good-looking men. "Whatever you want," he assured his pet, smiling when Lance presented himself further, nearly making contact with the blond.

"So, if I did this," Arthur asked, closing his fist around the dark–haired man's erection, making him gasp, "it would be okay."

"More than okay," Merlin assured him, "judging from his reaction."

"Please," Lancelot whispered, moving his hips to get more friction. "Please, move."

Pulling back, crossing his arms in front of his chest, Arthur decided. "I don't think that I like your talking." Addressing Merlin, he prompted, "Maybe we should just go inside and leave him to his own devices."

"No!" The sub keened, looking at them pleadingly. "Mistress said that I am only allowed to come if someone else is touching me!"

Seemingly unfazed, though Merlin could read his excitement clear as day, Arthur stepped back. "I don't see how this is any of my concern."

Gasping for breath, Lancelot made an aborted movement towards Arthur but was trained better than to reach out. He looked at the blond beseeching but didn't utter another word.

Looking him up and down, the blond seemed to ponder if he was even worth his time, before sighing. "Fine, turn around. Hands on the roof. You should get the chance to look at yourself since you are so desperate for attention."

Unbitten memories of his prince rose in Merlin's mind, as he watched Arthur take control. When the blond's eyes met his, self–assured and in charge, he could not help but reach out and pull him into a passionate kiss. For a few moments, their audience was forgotten, but then Arthur pulled back and looked pointedly at Lancelot who squirmed beside the car. Smiling, Merlin nipped at his bottom lip before stepping back with an inviting gesture.

The dark–haired sub could not help but groan when Arthur close his hand around his cock again. Neither the wait nor the exposure had done anything to dampen his excitement. Knowing by now how to make such an encounter enjoyable, the blond slowly moved his fingers over the man's length, gathering pre–cum to ease the motion, all the while standing just out of reach, never touching the other beyond their superficial contact.

Merlin could see Lance fighting with himself not to move, not to beg since the stimulation were far too slow to grant him release. Yet he managed to hold back, even as he pressed his forehead against the car, to gain purchase, breath misting the windows. Arthur speed up his ministrations, but when he felt the dark–haired approaching completion, he stopped and fisted his hair, "I thought I told you to look at yourself, not lazy around."

Keening under his breath, Lance pulled back and straightened his posture. He corrected the position of his arms, the rigidness of his spine and spread his legs further apart until Arthur was satisfied and started touching him again. The next time the sub tethered on the edge of release, the blond reached lower to play with his balls. After a few moments, he returned to his cock, but drew back at the last minute, to tell Lancelot that he should look at Merlin since his master had instigated this and deserved a show. He had Lancelot cry out desperately the next time he stopped and circled the base of his cock to starve off his orgasm. The dark–haired man already had tears in his eyes, gazing at Merlin pitiful, so eager for release that his whole body trembled.

Reaching out, Merlin caressed his chin, anchoring him, but at the same time, berated, "You can clamour for pity all you want, but it is not my decision if you come tonight."

Lifting his eyes, he smiled at his pet, revelling in his burning desire. With a small chuckle, he pulled back his hands and reached for Arthur. The moment their lips met, his pet allowed Morgana's sub release, catching him when he went boneless after coming.

"You know him, don't you, Sir?"

Making sure that Lancelot was covered again, Merlin nodded. "Yes."

"Are you … did you entertain a relationship?"

"What?" Looking up surprised, the warlock noticed the strange look on Arthur's face and wanted to know, "Pet, are you jealous?"

"No, Sir," the blond mumbled, lifting the sub, turning towards the house to get the man situated on their sofa. Once he had pulled Hunith's favourite plaid over him and met Merlin's eyes again, he froze. The warlock seemed livid. Anxiously he followed when they went upstairs, yet hovered at the door of the sorcerer's room when they entered.

The slap he received was vicious. Though it did not hurt as much as other punishments he had suffered, it tore into his soul because nothing could have served as a better indicator of how deeply disappointed Merlin was with him. Covering his burning cheek, he sank to his knees, whispering crestfallen, "I'm sorry. Please, … I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?" The warlock interrupted him sharply, "Lie to me? And in something so obvious? I had such high hopes for you tonight. Everything went perfectly and now … I can't even look at you."

"No, **please**!" Arthur cried out, reaching for Merlin, clawing at his trousers. "I'm sorry, please! I was jealous! But I knew I had no right, so I denied it! I didn’t want to think about you and this Lancelot. I saw him today at the party, and he was smart and funny, and later, he submitted so easily. He's … he would be a better fit for someone like you and …, and I didn't want to think about having to share you. Not as long as you want me and …" Finally letting go, Arthur curled into himself, fisting his hair as if to punish himself.

All anger drained out of Merlin at that heart–rending confession. Crouching down in front of his pet, he brushed over his head, so Arthur had to stop mutilating himself. Quietly, he pondered, "Shouldn't I be the judge of that?"

Wordlessly his pet gave a timid nod.

"Where is Lancelot, at the moment?"

"Sleeping downstairs."

"And where are you?"

"I'm here, with you." Slowly lifting his face again, Merlin could still see the despair and the heartache. But this was not how he wanted their last day to begin, so he pulled his pet to his feet. "Go on and take a shower. We don't want the bed to smell like smoke and perfume."

Lifting Merlin's hand, pressing a grateful kiss to its palm, Arthur whispered, "Thank you."

ϽОϹ

After having snatched a quick shower in the downstairs bathroom, Merlin lifted his blanket for his pet to slip between the sheets. When the blond curled up beside him, the warlock pulled him against his chest and kissed the back of his head. "I'm exactly where I want to be," he assured his long-lost prince. "You have to trust me on this Arthur, and everything will be alright."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A child of maybe twelve years entered. "I'm Mordred; my godmother sent me to help you prepare for the ritual."  
> Understanding that this was not optional, Arthur sank to his knees when the boy gestured at the floor.  
> "I will begin now, please don't move." the child explained, bringing over a pot and a brush to paint runes all over Arthur's body. The paint was shimmering golden, and the man was surprised to find the child's eyes burning with the same colour as he mumbled words of magic.  
> "You're a sorcerer as well, Mordred?"  
> "I'm a druid," the boy revealed, once he was finished. "Bound to the magic of this land and in the name of all of us, let me say how grateful we are for your sacrifice, my Lord."  
> Confused, Arthur inquired, "My sacrifice?"  
> "Yes," Mordred confirmed, picking up the cape Morgause had laid out. "To give yourself to magic, mind, body, and soul so we can live is an honourable deed. Especially after abandoning us last time. We were facing extinction. But thanks to you, we will prosper again. For this, we'll be forever in your service, my Lord; in this life and the next."


	10. The Equinox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. I hope you all enjoyed this story so far and, as I said, there will be more eventually. As soon as I start writing the second part, I will share it with you. I've changed this into a series, to give you a chance to subscribe to it, though I don't know when I will come around to write again. Anyway, I hope this last chapter clears it up where this was supposed to go from the beginning. Enjoy.

Waking the next day, Merlin could feel the pull of the sun, the moon, the land and its magic already. Forces were aligning, and he knew, should Arthur and him not be able to sustain them, they would start fading before the night reached its darkest hour. Still, a part of Merlin wanted to say, 'screw it' and run away from his duties, from their kingdom, from everything he had served and protected for centuries. But Kilgharrah's eyes, studying him over the breakfast table, told him without words that some duties were impossible to ignore.

The dragon's powerful voice filled his mind, when he reminded the warlock, "If everything goes according to plan, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Have faith in your people. All will go well."

" I can't have everything!" Merlin spat out, shoving away from the table. "Some things will be lost one way or the other." Then he retreated to his room, slamming the door shut.

After barely a minute, Arthur slipped in, closing the door quietly. He watched Merlin for a few moments before approaching him gingerly. The warlock could feel his pet hovering, at loss of what to do. The last few weeks, the blond had been trained to bow and submit, never to act on his own volition, instead to defer to the warlock in all things. But today he slowly slipped his arms around Merlin's waist and pressed his forehead against thin shoulder blades.

Reveling in their proximity, Merlin took even breaths to calm himself. He was just ready to turn around, when he heard Arthur whisper, "Whatever it is, we'll get through it. And if there is anything I can do to help, please tell me, and I'll do it!"

"I know." This was what the last month had been all about after all. Still, Merlin pondered that he should count his blessings that everything had worked out so well. So, he turned around and caressed his pet's cheeks, smiling at him gratefully before kissing his forehead. "Go and start with the shower. I'll be with you in a moment."

Though Arthur appeared as if he wanted to say something, he bit his lip after a second and lowered his eyes, "Yes, Merlin."

ϽОϹ

The warlock thought about using one of Morgause's herbal mixtures to get Arthur through the day, yet decided against it in the end. His former prince deserved better than to either spend their last hours together in a cloudy haze or dominated by desperate need. Though the drugs would wear off by sundown, Merlin didn't like the idea of having Arthur impaired today.

Unsurprisingly, his pet was exceptionally well behaved. He seemed attuned to his master's agitation. So, when Merlin stretched him gently, prompting him to decide on a plug, he chose the weighted, duo−toned one, because the two steel−orbs embedded in the toy would excite him to the point of desperation and he was aware of the effect it had on the raven–haired man.

After their shower, he eagerly accepted the next book of 'The Mage'−series and curled up next to Merlin's armchair, getting lost in Merlin's memories of Camelot. The warlock tried to make some last−minute checks and preparations for the ritual, but his gaze always drifted to the blond head in front of him, helpless to reach out and pat it. Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal. He told himself that it would be better that way.

If only he could believe it.

ϽОϹ

"Merlin, it's time."

Looking up he found Kilgharrah at his door. He had expected Hunith, Morgana, even Lancelot, but somehow it felt fitting that the last great dragon had come to remind him of his duties. At his last brush over the blond's head, his pet looked up with infinite trust, and a tiny smile Merlin couldn't help but mirror. Today, Arthur would finally receive what he had trained him to crave, and after that …

The all−terrain car they had rented for today, was filled to the brim with food and drinks. Not all of it cooked nor consumable for humans. Faries were a queer folk, yet today his family had gone great lengths to cater to every need.

When they arrived in the forest, close to the clearing, they could already see the huge tent, Morgana and Morgause had erected. Before the ritual, it would store their food and Afterwards offer them privacy if they wanted a few minutes, away from prying eyes. Once everything was set up, Arthur was breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Though he had carried boxes without complaint, the toy was apparently getting to him. He knew better than to ask for a reprieve, but Merlin had spotted him to snatch brief breaks so he could calm down.

Once everything had been carried inside, the warlock decided that he would steal his pet away. They had to clean themselves anyway, so when he told Arthur to strip, once they had reached the lake, it was only partially self-serving.

Though the water was refreshing on a hot day like this, swimming did little to tamper his pet's excitement. When they returned to the shore, after a short lap, Arthur was more crawling than walking, splaying out on the ground, fists pressing against the grass, hips moving restlessly on the ground.

"Are you going to be naughty?" The warlock asked, keeping his pet under scrutiny.

Shaking his head frantically, the blond assured, "No, Merlin, but please, tell me when … when will you take me?"

"When the evening begins," the raven−haired promised, stretching out in the grass. Reaching out to brush the tips of his fingers over his pet's cock, eliciting a quiet whine, Merlin explained, "Once all have gathered, I will take you right in front of them. I will fuck you so hard that all you can even think about is me." He pulled his hand back, watching fascinated when a small spurt of come painted Arthur's naked belly. Scooping it up, he reached for the blond's lips to have him clean his fingers. "But no coming until then. If you disobey, I will chain you to the altar, stuff you with the prostate vibe and will make you come until the morning dawns. Understood?"

Lavishing Merlin's fingers, sucking on them eagerly, Arthur nodded and promised, "Understood, Sir."

"Alright," the warlock decided, rising from the grass. "Then we will get back now, so you can be dressed for your big evening."

ϽОϹ

When returning to the clearing, Merlin's breath was taken away. The fey of the forest and the lake had apparently gone out of their way to decorate this sacred place, for the upcoming ritual. Morgana and Morgause entered the tent with them, to prepare him. Unlike Arthur, he would only be given a small cloth to hide his privates. It was woven from the hair of countless fey and witches and had no more substance than spider's silk. It tickled when Morgana twisted it around his hips, but this was important for the magic folk to be part of this ritual so Merlin would cherish their gift. Nobody seemed inclined to make mindless conversation, even Morgause − who painted his forehead, chest, and wrists with oil, drawing the sacred runes of rejuvenation − worked as quietly as possible.

Once the witch and priestess were finished and they were alone again, Merlin looked at his pet. He could see the longing in Arthur's eyes when he presented himself so freely, but the blond was able to pick up on the gravity of the situation, so he didn't voice his desires. Quietly he turned around and allowed Merlin to remove his clothes and the plug that had kept him on edge all day. He leaned into the caress ever so slightly, when the raven–haired man let his hands travel over Arthur's flushed skin before pulling back. Shortly before the warlock was ready to leave for the clearing, the blond approached him and wove their fingers together. When Merlin didn't pull back, he quietly suggested, "You could take me now, away from prying eyes. I would belong to only you, and nobody would witness our first time where we truly share our pleasure."

"I know," the warlock replied, brushing a wayward strand out of his pet's face. Snuggling into the warm hand, Arthur came even closer, until their lips were a mere breath apart. But before he could offer something he didn't understand the significance of, Merlin brushed his thumb over his pet's lips. Desperate need reflected in the blond's eyes when he breathed, "Please, just this once."

But the warlock would not falter, some things were too valuable to claim from an unknowing participant. "Believe me; it's better this way, pet. Tomorrow you would regret it." Then he kissed the young man's forehead one last time and left the tent.

ϽОϹ

When Arthur tried to follow, a child of maybe twelve years entered, interrupting his exit. "I'm Mordred; my godmother sent me to help you prepare for the ritual."

Understanding that this was not optional, Arthur pulled back and sank to his knees when the boy gestured at the floor.

"I will begin now, please don't move." the child explained, bringing over a pot and a brush to paint runes all over Arthur's body. The paint was shimmering golden, and the man was surprised to find the child's eyes burning with the same colour as he mumbled words of magic.

"You're a sorcerer as well, Mordred?"

"I'm a druid," the boy revealed, once he was finished. "Bound to the magic of this land and in the name of all of us, let me say how grateful we are for your sacrifice, my Lord."

Confused, Arthur inquired, "My sacrifice?"

"Yes," Mordred confirmed, picking up the cape Morgause had lain out. "To give yourself to magic, mind, body, and soul so we can live is an honourable deed. Especially after abandoning us last time. We were facing extinction. But thanks to you, we will prosper again. For this, we'll be forever in your service, my Lord; in this life and the next."

Allowing the boy to drape the rich, red fabric over his shoulder, Arthur felt himself drifting, his mind overwhelmed by the word 'sacrifice' and 'mind, body, and soul' and 'give yourself to magic' … He knew 'magic' most likely stood for Merlin and his blood seemed to turn to ice when he finally made the connection. Everything: the contract, the constant humiliation, the training … literally, **everything** had had but one goal: to get him prepared for this!

The warlock had goaded him with pleasure and the kindness he had always craved. He had dangled today − the promise of shared pleasure − in front of him so Arthur would enter the ritual willingly. A ritual where he would be sacrificed on an altar for the good of beings he had not even known existed a month ago!

Well, he was not chained any longer. He could snatch his clothes and leave this god forsaken place! But before he could even rise, his eyes fell on the boy, who looked at him with such reverence it took Arthur's breath away. This child had talked about prosperity for his people and the threat of extinction, and somehow, he realised that he could not turn his back on this.

Arthur was convinced that Merlin would keep his word even after he was gone. 'The Mage' would be published by Pendragon Papers, saving their company and the countless people who made their living working for them. And if he thought of all the people and creatures and mythical beings, out there; about the length Merlin had gone to grant them this chance, running away was not an option. Besides, despite all the humiliation and pain, he had suffered, the raven−haired warlock had also been the only person who had shown him genuine affection, in a very long time.

In Merlin's arms, Arthur had felt protected, maybe even loved. And though it had all been a plot to gain his compliance, it didn’t change his feelings. So, when Mordred nudged him gently and told him, "Emrys is waiting for you," a strange sense of calm washed over him. As if this had been inevitable right from the beginning. As if it was his fate.

He rose, took the young druid's hand and nodded, "I'm ready."

ϽОϹ

When Mordred guided Arthur towards the altar, Merlin's breath caught in his throat. Despite lacking his armour, this was his prince, pacing into the clearing with his head held high, ready to do what had to be done for the good of their people. Once he took Merlin's hand, Morgana and Morgause stepped up to him from behind, but they didn't touch … not yet.

Loudly, so every witness would understand, Merlin stated, "Arthur Pendragon, are you willing to submit to me, mind, body, and soul?"

For a moment, he imagined a frown ghosting over his prince's features, but then the blond answered in a clear voice, "I am."

Carefully opening the bindings of his cape, folding it on the altar, Morgana and Morgause returned to the corners of the stone–table to stand guard.

With a small smile, Merlin squeezed Arthur's fingers while placing him in the centre of the circle, trapped between himself and the altar. "You look positively regal. I'm so proud of you."

Arthur wanted to scoff, call it a calculated compliment, but he could see the sincerity in the warlock's eyes. Therefore, he couldn't keep his cheeks from colouring and the smile that escaped him. What came next, however, was not what he had expected. Not in the slightest.

Over the two weeks, Merlin had taken him in numerous ways: hard and demanding, sweet and slow, so forceful that it would have bordered on rape had Arthur not been willing, eager even. He had enjoyed it, every single time, even when it was supposed to be a punishment. But now, in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by an audience, the warlock did something Arthur could have never anticipated: he made love to him. Every brush of his fingertips, the way he slowly caressed his chest, his entire body … it all was so sweet and achingly familiar that it brought tears to Arthur's eyes. His body had long since learned to be content with even the most superficial touch, but this was more. When he locked eyes with the warlock, he could see an adoration there that bordered on reverence, and it made his breath catch.

He clutched the back of the altar when Merlin brushed over the v of his thighs and whispered, "Just relax and let me in. I promise it will be amazing."

Succumbing, Arthur let his legs fall open, accepting Merlin into his body, arching into the touch when the warlock bottomed out. He revelled in the sharp breath he drew from the man in front of him when he clenched around him.

For an eternity, they moved together, synchronised in a perfect rhythm neither had experienced before and for a while, time lost all meaning. When Arthur felt his orgasm approaching, his entire body got tenser with every shove. He noticed Merlin pulling a thin, silver blade from the folds of his loincloth and the blond couldn't help but rear up with a sob, catching the warlock's wrist. Brushing his lips over the taunt knuckles, he whispered frantically, "Please, please, Merlin, don't! I'm willing, but give me this. You promised shared pleasure, just this once. Afterwards, I will let you plunge this dagger into my heart so your people can live."

"By the goddess, Arthur!" Merlin choked, winding his arms around his prince's body, pulling him against his chest.

Arthur felt the metal of the blade against his back, strangely warm and pulsing as if the item possessed its own heartbeat. Yet he was not afraid anymore when the warlock kissed his temple and assured him, "Nobody will harm you ever again, Arthur. I would never allow it."

When the blond pulled back this time, the love he saw in the warlock's eyes overwhelmed him. He relaxed onto the stone again, not caring that there had been a sharp weapon at his back only moments ago. Looking up he noticed Merlin wrapping his hand around part of the blade, and instinctively wrap his fingers around what was left. The pull of the knife, the pain of the cut, combined with one last forceful shove, overwhelmed Arthur. He could feel Merlin's seed filling his body, and that sensation was enough to push him over the edge. The orgasm was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It started at his core, where they were connected, but seemed to race through his entire body like lightning. The blood of their hands dripped onto his stomach and combined with the seed he had spilt. The colourful mixture of their life fluids − red and white − ran in rivulets over his skin and hit the altar. The forces that were freed, when the sacrifice was made, exploded through his body and stole his senses.

Long lost memories overwhelmed Arthur, and though he could hear the warlock and the two witches chanting, he couldn't pay them any mind. Pictures of himself, of his father and Merlin, raced through his mind: joyful times where they had been together, heart, body, and soul; wasted lives where they had been apart. Snippets of memories overwhelmed his senses, making his head feel as if it was about to explode, but before the pain made him scream, he felt two, calming hands on his temples.

When he opened his eyes, he met orbs heartbreakingly familiar, though he had met the person behind them only in passing in this life. He reached for her gentle fingers, clawed at them to keep them close and protect him from the pain, and the dark−haired witch soothed him, apparently not intending to let him go. "Shhh, it's alright, brother, let me help you, and everything will be all right."

"Morgana!" He cried, holding on to her channelling his memories so he wouldn't be torn apart by them and finally he understood. Understood what had happened, why this had been necessary because finally, his mind pulled him back to the beginning: back to Camelot.

ϽОϹ

When he slid from the altar, his knights came closer, covered him in the rich, red cape and sank to his knees, surrounding him. He looked into their eyes and saw both, the men they were now and the friends they had been in the old days. It was a jarring contrast in some aspects, but at their core, they were still the same. Trading a smile with each of them, he turned around and took in the expressions of the fey, fairies and other beings. They all looked at him with reverence. He met the eyes of Morgause, his sister's sister and the man who had always been more to him than a friend, a brother in arms or a lover.

Raising his bloody hand towards the sky so everybody could see it, he pressed it to the stone, feeling the pulse of the magic that once again flew unrestricted. "My friends, let today be a reminder that the needs of many are more important than the needs of one, no matter the lifetime. As your former king, I want to renew my sacred oath I gave you in Camelot. I will protect and care for every single one of you. No matter what happens tomorrow, in a month or ten years from now, if you are in need, call upon me, and I will be there. Because this is the age of Albion, where we shall all live together in peace and prosperity!"

"Hail, King Arthur!"

"Long live our King!"

The shouts and chirps and howls were deafening, but Arthur could only suffer them for mere moments before the noise became overwhelming. Fortunately, his knights rose within seconds and guided him away from the clearing, back to the lake. A bundle of clothes, food, and drinks had been prepared for them, and a luscious carped with cushions covered the grass.

Slipping into the water, Arthur tried to wash away the sweat, oil, semen, and blood. For a heartbeat, he had to fight down the pain, because though he had privacy now, at least mentally, he was keenly aware of Merlin's absence from his side. He should be happy, he supposed, since he wasn't a plaything … a 'pet' any longer. But all he could feel was the jarring loss of someone his heart was convinced should be beside him at all times. His friends tried to distract him with food and beer and wine, but just like him, they all got lost in their own memories too often, to create a permanent diversion. The runes on their forehead, a gift from the druids of the forest, had helped them recall Camelot, with all the good and the bad that had happened there. All in all, it was a sombre party.

ϽОϹ

They were still sharing beer and sandwiches when Merlin, once again in 'regular' clothes, stepped into the circle of knights. He forced countless smiles when men, he had known for centuries, rose and hugged him in greeting. Once they were finished, he merely requested, "Arthur, would you please join me?"

As expected, the blond rose and allowed Merlin to guide him away from his friends. He let his eyes wander over the ground, the trees, and the lake and for once the warlock didn't force him to look up. "I assume that one of them will give you a lift?" He asked dispassionately.

Looking over his shoulder, towards his friends, Arthur confirmed with a shrug, "I suppose so."

Taking a deep breath, Merlin started, "Listen, Arthur, there is one last spell I can offer before this is over: if you desire, I can take away your memories. You would forget everything. What happened between us as well as what happened today. It would be as if the last three weeks had not happened. You can go back to your life just like it was and will never have to worry about warlocks or witches, nymphs or dryads or any other magical folk ever again. As a descendant of the Pendragon bloodline, and rightful ruler of Albion, you have done your part. I can take it from here."

For a heartbeat, Arthur was tempted to say yes. To forget all the pain, the humiliation and all the shameful acts the warlock had forced on him. But then he recalled their lazy days, the gentle hand that had petted his hair while he had read stories he now knew had actually happened. He would forget the tender gaze of a mother, not even his, who had taken care of him nevertheless, and the strong arms that had wrapped around him, guarding his sleep. He would lose the first time he had even remotely felt as if he was part of a family and in the end, that was not worth forgetting the pain. So, he shook his head. "No, I … I would rather keep these memories. The good and the bad."

When he looked up, he noticed an inexplicable look in Merlin's eyes, but before he could make heads or tails of it, the warlock tilted his head and conceded. "So be it. Have a good life, Arthur Pendragon. You will be a worthy ruler of this realm."

ϽОϹ

Merlin had been infinitely grateful when watched the Knights take Arthur away. He was convinced that only his friends could help Arthur through this, his prince deserved to be around people he trusted. The runes he had seen on their forehead had indicated that − should everything go according to plan − they would come into their memories of Camelot the same moment Arthur would unlock his. He wondered how his sister and Morgause had convinced the druids to allow 'unconnected humans' in their midst. But then, protecting their future leader, serving as Mordred's godmother, seemed to have its perks.

Once he was back from the shore, the warlock cleaned the sacred blade before handing it over to its keeper. The druids would resupply it in another eighty to hundred years. Still, the mere look of it sent tremors down Merlin's hands. How could Arthur believe, even for a heartbeat, that he would use it to kill him? Merlin had suffered pain, neglect and more often than not, humiliation through countless lifetimes just to keep him alive. The mere idea of injuring his prince was an atrocity!

A few nymphs had just shared their joy of regaining their powers because their forest had suffered so much these last few years. Emrys, of course, had smiled and encouraged them before directing them towards the buffet so they could celebrate when Morgana touched his shoulder. Wordlessly, he followed her away from the crowd.

Climbing a tree, resting on opposite branches with just their fingers linked, she finally asked, "How do you feel?"

She didn't have to look at him to know whether he was lying or not, so Merlin didn't bother. "Empty."

After a few minutes, she offered, "Do you want me to look into your future?"

But the young man merely shook his head, knowing that knowledge of what was to come, could be either blessing or curse, so he replied, "No, sis, not this time."

"Come on then." Morgana prompted after half an hour where they had watched their charges from afar. "Kilgharrah is still around. Let's go home." Then she swung her legs over the branch and jumped down. Landing gracefully, she caused her brother to shake his head, as he climbed down much more carefully. "It still freaks me out when you do that."

"I've had centuries to improve my abilities. To transform into a cat, gaining the according instincts, was hardly the most impressive feat."

"No," the warlock admitted, offering his arm. "You've grown beyond anything we could have imagined back in the day. But you know what I'm most grateful for?"

"What?"

"That you are my sister, this time around. Arthur might have needed you, but remembering how it had been in the 20th century, I'm eternally grateful that we are on the same side now."

Passing the clearing, barely touching the edges of the party, Morgana mumbled, "I didn't get the chance to apologise until now. For abandoning you back then."

With a gentle smile, Merlin looked at her. "There is nothing to apologise for, Morgana. We both were different people then. And though I remember the hard times, what you are to me today, is so much more important."

Reaching the dragon who, for once, lay stretched out on the grass in his natural form, the siblings mounted him when he lowered his head.

Morgana laughed, holding on to Merlin when the beast rose into the air, wind whipping through her hair. "I hope I will remember this life the clearest next time. I think it's the best I have led so far."

"Everything began in Camelot," Kilgharrah reminded them, soaring through the night. "What comes after depends on you and the lives you deem most important. You recalled your last easiest because it was tied to the strongest emotions. Pain, hate, disgust … all those are powerful feelings, easy to remember."

"So, you are saying," Merlin clarified, "that the life where we suffer the most will always be the most prominent in our minds?"

"That depends," the dragon replied, "on how much you value happiness, friendship, and love, young warlock."

"Most of all," Merlin decided, letting his eyes burn golden to hide them from prying eyes when they reached the outskirts of London.

"Nothing could ever be more important!" Morgana agreed, inching closer to her younger brother, fusing her magic with his to lighten his load, even knowing that it was not necessary tonight.

ϽОϹ

Merlin was still watching the moon making its way across the night sky, when Morgana slipped into his room, an hour later. She wore silk boxers she had fleeced from Lancelot and a ratty shirt she hadn't bothered to pack when moving out. Merlin's room was back to normal, with all the personal knick−knacks and pictures back, he had hidden from Arthur. Crawling into his bed, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, whispering, "He will forgive you eventually. With his memories returned, he will understand why you had to do it. He always did."

"I know he will," Merlin replied hoarsely, swallowing the tears that threatened to spill. "I just don't know how many lifetimes it will take me to forgive myself?"

ϽОϹ

The morning was dawning, similar to the one three weeks ago when Arthur had slipped between the covers after a night of drinking and partying. He had been giddy that morning, deeming himself on top of the world, not understanding how much he had been missing.

Today, with the satin−sheets pulling the heat from his body, he longed for a smaller bed, with cotton covers, where he had never slept alone.

He remembered. At the forefront of his mind, right on par with Camelot, was the life he had led during World War II. He could recall every decision and every action where his family had protected nobody but themselves. Of course, they had supported the war−effort, they had produced weapons after all, but in the end, it had all been about personal gain. There were vague impressions of Merlin conferring with his father; begging Arthur − once his father had sent him away − to mind his responsibilities and join him during the Equinox. The warlock had returned time and time again, had found ways into their factories and into their homes at least twice a year so he could remind the Pendragon bloodline of their duties.

One day, Uther had set his hounds on him. He hadn't returned after that. Arthur remembered feeling sorry for him and a vague sense of obligation when Merlin Emrys had talked about Albion. But such talk had stood in the way of his work. Thus, after a decade of constant pestering, Arthur had been glad to see him gone.

Well, this time, Merlin hadn't given him a choice. In a way, Arthur felt that he deserved all the torment he had suffered from his sorcerer's hands. Merlin had been there for him through countless lifetimes, and though not all were as bright as the last, Camelot alone would have entitled him to strip Arthur to the core and take everything. He surely had given enough in return.

But this had been more than petty revenge, the former king realised. Every day, every carefully crafted suffering had had but one goal: for Arthur to be able to give himself to magic … to Merlin, mind, body, and soul. His sorcerer had had him fulfil his duties to their people, and though Arthur could not regret what had happened, the loss he now suffered, was enough to suffocate him.

Yes, he was free again, free to make his own choices, to go to work, to see his friends, meet new people. But all that had come at the loss of the one man he had learned to love unconditionally. Not the cruel author who had bargained Arthur's dignity for a book contract, but the devoted sorcerer he had gained in Camelot and all the lives that followed.

Yet, there was no turning back. All Arthur could do now, was curl up under his blanket and weep. Because after everything that had happened between Merlin and himself, in this life and the last, he was sure that the last thing Merlin wanted was to have him by his side again. He had been arrogant, self−centred and cruel; not the person anybody wanted to be with. Especially not if they had a house filled with joy, laughter and so much love it made Arthur's heart ache in longing.

The sun had already reached its highest point when his sobs finally died, and the former ruler of Camelot fell into an uneasy sleep.

ϽОϹ

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you: A Happy New Year.

**Author's Note:**

> You came this far, you might as well comment.


End file.
